


The Flames of Heaven

by MufasasPride, sexythroatbitchohyescats



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future Fish, Arson, Cancer Arc, Crimes & Criminals, Cuddles, Eventual relationship, Family, Fluff, General gayness, Law Enforcement, M/M, Or not, Secrets, Suspense, fucked upness, hair sniffing, or maybe both, texting cuteness, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 66,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4743845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MufasasPride/pseuds/MufasasPride, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexythroatbitchohyescats/pseuds/sexythroatbitchohyescats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tall, scruffy-haired firefighter, whose green eyes shine with understanding seems a far-fetched dream to Haru--only someone to stand back and observe through the dark cloak of night, illuminated by the flames of Haru's latest creation. </p><p>Haru hates fire, but he needs to see his face again, whatever the costs.</p><p>It never crosses Haru's mind that maybe, the flames aren't necessary, and that that very firefighter would wind up beneath the tent of the mackerel stand where Haru works completely of his own accord. And it certainly never crosses Haru's mind that maybe, he doesn't have to watch from afar anymore. Maybe, he can watch up close, and more... That is, if he can cover his tracks. </p><p>With the police on his heels, and his dreams nearly within reach, Haru has a choice to make: can he keep his past behind him, or is his secret too much to bear?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Green

Green

The old Satsumori Distribution Warehouse sat at the end of a quiet and desolate street, in the outskirts of downtown Tokyo. The Satsumori company went bankrupt in the late 1980s, and the building had been abandoned for some thirty years. It stood distanced from the other buildings, that were in such close proximity to each other that if one caught on fire, then they all would.

Even though it was an area of Tokyo that many averted their eyes while in passing, and almost no human life could be found so late at night, a small, lithe figure appeared walking silently in the shadows. The figure wore a black hoodie that covered the top of their head, and carried a heavy looking backpack. They stopped in front of the Satsumori Distribution Warehouse, and although they couldn't be seen beneath the hood of the jacket, a pair of ocean blue eyes methodically swept up the face of the building.

Beneath the hood, shrouded by shadows, was the face of a young man named Haru Nanase. A light breeze ruffled his straight ebony hair, as he paused, taking a moment to observe the creepy old building, staring at its decrepit, worn down exterior. His long, slender hand reached up to adjust the strap of the backpack, before he looked behind him. After making sure there was no one there, he opened the rusted door and walked in. Although he had done his research and had discovered that the old Satsumori Warehouse did not have any video cameras, he still kept the hood to obscure his face just to be safe.

Back when it had been in business, the Satsumori company had distributed wood and bamboo based products, and so the base floor of the warehouse was littered with long neglected dismantled pieces of wood furniture, planks, kindling, even wooden spoons. Haru set his backpack on the stone floor and slipped his hand into the pocket to retrieve his package of sterile, latex gloves. He took out a new pair and carefully slipped them over his willowy fingers. Next he put on a mask to cover his nose and mouth, leaving just his eyes visible.  _Okay,_  he thought, straightening up.  _Time to get to work._

Haru began searching through the various bits of leftover wood, looking for any pine, eucalyptus, or red cedar scraps that weren't damp and soggy. He lucked out and found a half dismantled red cedar dresser, and several pine planks. He carefully dragged them against the wall, making sure they were against the wood planks lining the wall. The wood planks lined the entirety of the walls on the base floor, mostly mildewy and molded from the years of neglect.

Haru walked back to his backpack, and pulled out a can of gasoline. Stopping over his carefully placed pieces of wood, he lightly drizzled the gasoline over the top, and then began to walk around the perimeter of the room, leaving a trail. He continued the trail outside the building as well, even splashing the outer walls. Once satisfied with his job, he carefully crept back into the building, making sure he didn't mess up any of the gasoline he left behind. He grabbed his backpack and walked outside again. His heart began to race and his breathing became shallower. What came next was the part he didn't like.

Haru sighed and turned to his backpack, his blood pumping his ears. After rummaging through around, he found what he was looking for. Slowly and carefully, he withdrew a box of matches. He looked at them, resting in his gloved palm, with an inscrutable facial expression, filled with neither enjoyment or displeasure. Instead, he felt an inexplicable desperation and need that controlled his movements.

He pulled a single match out, his eyes watching it anxiously. Even though he had done it many times before, he still felt nervous about that first spark. Taking a deep breath in, he lit it, and a small orange glow flickered from the end of the match. The orange danced tauntingly in the reflection of his wary, cool eyes, before he flicked it right towards the building.

The gasoline quickly caught light, and Haru made a run for it, not wanting to be caught in the wrath of his own creation. He ran over to a different building that was good amount of distance away, and upon noticing it had a fire escape that was shrouded in darkness, quickly ran up it's steps. He stopped at about the fifth floor, deciding it was the best place as any to hide and stay out of sight. He sat down to watch and wait.

* * *

Makoto Tachibana was reclining on the the break room sofa when the alarm sounded.

"Not again," he groaned, brow furrowing, as he jumped to his feet and followed the stream of men rushing down to the garage.

Makoto listened to the muted chatter around him, much in tune with his own internal dialogue, as he hoisted on his heavy, fireproof coat. The sirens sounding around him drowned most other noise, but he could still make out a few mutters of "serial arsonist" and "second time this week". Makoto shook his head as he pulled his helmet over his tousled brown hair, red lights flashing in his emerald eyes. As much as he tried to wrap his head around it, he still couldn't understand why someone would set fire to abandoned buildings, and so many of them, in such a short span of time.

Makoto had been present at the scene of all but one of the arsonist's fires-he had thankfully had the night off that time. All of them were the same, occurring on the outskirts of Tokyo away from any modern developments, and all of them had left their building of choice charred beyond repair, leaving no evidence behind that could potentially lead officials to the culprit.

Whoever was burning the buildings was smart, and had no intention of being caught, which of course only made authorities want to catch them all the more desperately.

Hopping into the passenger seat of a firetruck, Makoto waited for the rest of his crew members to board before giving clearance for the driver to take off. The clock read "1:03 a.m."-the perfect time for someone to set fire to a building and slink off into the shadows, never to be found. Upon seeing his lagging teammates step onto the truck in the side mirrors, Makoto gave the driver a thumbs up and they sped onto the freeway that would lead them to the abandoned Satsumori Distribution Warehouse.

As the city deteriorated further out from Tokyo's epicenter, so did the quality of the roads. Makoto's head reeled from the jarring bumps and singing sirens of the ride. The truck flung up bright lights against the dark sky, and the flashes pulsed behind his eyes, amplifying the sleep-deprivation he already felt so intensely. He fumbled with the orca keychain he kept inside his coat pocket to distract himself in the hopes of staying alert.

He had found the keychain on a day off, a few weeks after the serial fires had started, when he had gone down to the fish market for his family. The keychain had been lying under the end of a fold-out table and he had picked it up. The edges of the orca's tail were a bit charred, the plastic curling back in a wavy pattern indicating that it had been glossed by flames. After asking around in the hopes of finding a child that may have dropped it, Makoto turned up no results and had decided to keep it. There was something about the keychain that resonated with him-maybe its still sense of abandonment in the crowded market, or the mark of the fire signifying a history screaming to be told. Whatever it was, it was powerful enough to earn the orca residence in Makoto's pocket ever since.

About a ten minute ride later, Makoto saw it: the Satsumori Distribution Warehouse. As the truck approached it, the familiar smell of smoke and gasoline assaulted his nose. He had been working as a fireman for three years, but he still hadn't grown accustomed to the smell.

"We've got a big one tonight," the driver observed from the seat next to him, voice made husky from years of inhaling smoke.

Makoto offered a curt nod in response as the truck pulled over, close enough to the flames to put them out, but not so close that the crew would be put at risk. Makoto and his teammates immediately rushed out of the truck and set up the hose, waves of heat crashing over their skin, and rivulets of sweat dripping down their faces.

The first look at a fire up close was always blinding, and this one was no exception. Makoto held an arm out in front of his face as he adjusted to the onslaught of light, squinting until his eyes hurt. As unpleasant as his situation was, though, Makoto much preferred the blazing light to the pitch black-exactly what the scene would have been shrouded in if not for the fire. He knew it was ironic, but somehow he was a fireman that was thankful for fires. They lit up the dark, where menacing creations of his imagination took up residence, and reminded him that everything he knew to be true in the day was the same at night.

Finally adjusted, Makoto gazed straight at the smouldering building in front of him, black foundation glowing with yellow flames. He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Haru had been sitting on the fire escape, mindlessly fiddling with the dolphin keychain that hung from his backpack, for over a half an hour before he heard the sirens. A firetruck and several police cars came speeding down the deserted road, their flashing lights illuminating Haru's face for a moment before they passed his hiding spot and he was under the cover of darkness once again.

The truck and cars screeched to a stop thirty yards from the Satsumori warehouse, various police officers and firefighters hurriedly clambering out of the vehicles. Haru leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching fervently through the crowd of firemen.

_There._

An electric jolt went through Haru's body as he saw him. Even from his distance away, he could still recognize the tallest of the firemen, who he had only seen up close once. But once had been enough. The image of the fireman's face was carved into Haru's mind, the scruffy brown hair poking out from beneath his helmet, and the sparkling green eyes that seemed to repel the orange glow of the flame. Those jades had some mysterious power over Haru, who saw them reflecting back at him wherever he went, following him, watching him.

Haru had first seen those eyes about three months ago. It was Christmas Eve, and his roommates Rei and Nagisa had thrown a party to celebrate. Haru was not the most social and generally hated parties, but stayed only because Nagisa threatened to take away his pool membership. As he worked at a small stand in the fish market, Haru's meager pay didn't cover much more than rent, and Nagisa offered to pay for his membership. Despite Rei's protests about Haru "needing to get a better job" and Nagisa "needing to learn to be frugal", Nagisa paid for Haru, knowing how much he loved and needed swimming. Haru greatly appreciated Nagisa's generosity at the time, but later came to realize that it was an investment for Nagisa, and it acted as a bargaining chip. Haru could not escape Nagisa's master manipulation strategies, and was forced to attend the party.

On that Christmas Eve, it was around eleven, and most of the guests had left. Haru hadn't know any of them, and had sat in a corner alone, drinking water, while watching Nagisa excitedly flit from person to person, and Rei holding forth about art and politics. The two of them became louder and more abrasive as they consumed more alcohol and became drunk.

Haru had felt incredibly exhausted with all the human contact, and slowly leaned his head against the wall, drifting off into a peaceful sleep. It didn't last long, and he was roughly jolted awake by the harsh, acridness of smoke in his nostrils. He quickly jumped up in surprise, noticing the flames rising from the center of the living room. He stared at them in horror, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Nagisa was jumping around trying to put them out by dumping various bottles of liquid over the fire, but it was already too big to be put out easily.

Rei was belligerently shouting about how their apartment doesn't have a fireplace and how stupid it was for Nagisa to try to create his own. "I can appreciate the beauty of a fire on Christmas," he drunkenly hollered over the crackling of the flames and Nagisa's frantic shouts. "If you have a fireplace!"

At that moment the fire alarm began to blare, and Haru quickly grabbed his roommates, who were still shouting and stumbling, and practically dragged them down the six flights of stairs. Once outside and a safe distance away, Rei called the fire department and described the proceedings in an irritated fashion, and as soon as he hung up, he rekindled his sentiments about Nagisa's actions. Soon the two of them were in a full-blown argument on the sidewalk. Groaning slightly, Haru awkwardly shuffled away from them and sat down on the steps of a different building across the street, where he watched the fellow tenants of their apartment building flee in panic from the slightly smoking structure.

Before long, sirens began to wail, and a firetruck and several police cars arrived on the site. A young police officer with red hair and unusually pointy teeth and a shorter one with gray hair began to mill around, asking people for their names and about how the fire started, while a group of firefighters went inside the building.

One fireman was slightly behind his coworkers, and was stopped by a frantic mother from the fourth floor. "My daughter Yumiko is still in there!" she cried, tugging on the fireman's jacket. "She's fascinated by fire, and doesn't understand how harmful it is!"

From across the street, Haru saw the fireman smile and pat the woman's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll go get her." He ran into the building.

Haru watched as the the firemen put out the flames in his apartment, which ended up not being a very dangerous fire at all, and continued to sit on the steps. Eventually all the firefighters milled out of the building, but Haru didn't see the one who had gone to get that girl. Her mother continued to sob desperately.

After what seemed like five hours, the fireman returned, carrying a young girl with ease, as if she were a cat. He set her down and removed his helmet, revealing his messy brown hair and his slightly smudged face. He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair, when the mother tackle- hugged him. Haru could see the fireman's surprise, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. Laughing, he was released by the woman, and he kneeled down and said something to the young girl that Haru couldn't hear. He patted her on the head and then departed from them, walking closer to where Haru was sitting. Haru didn't want to be caught watching, so he quickly averted his eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" He heard a light, amiable voice call out. He turned and saw the fireman walking over to him. The fireman stopped a couple of feet away from Haru.

"Uh," Haru said awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm fine." He stared at the ground.

"Ok," the fireman said politely. "Just wanted to check." Haru glanced up and made eye contact with the man. Haru wasn't expecting to have two emerald eyes looking at him so intensely and understandingly, and his heart rate increased. But unlike most of the time, Haru didn't feel the need to look away, so he continued to stare into the fireman's eyes.

Haru felt something unusual in that moment. He had lived most of his life as a loner, with only a few friends like Rei and Nagisa. Often he was the person who was left out, or was never quite understood. Even though Rei and Nagisa were great friends and obviously cared about him, neither of them really understood him as a person. Haru had pretty much given up on finding a person that truly accepted him. But while looking into that friendly, smiling face, Haru felt understood for the first time in his life. He didn't feel the need to explain himself, or continue talking, because somehow the fireman knew. Some sort of mutual conversation silently passed between the two of them. The fireman laughed, his green eyes lighting up, and he left Haru alone, whose ears were ringing.

Since then, Haru's mind had been infiltrated by those eyes and that affectionate face. It became an obsession for him to see it again. He couldn't explain what had happened to him. He had never experienced something like this ever before, and it ate away at him until he was so desperate that he lost all sense of morality.

In his frenzied curiosity with the uniqueness of the firefighter, he came to a conclusion. If there was a fire, wouldn't the firefighter be there? So Haru became an arsonist. Although he had somewhat lost his rationality, he was meticulous in his planning, making sure to set fire to buildings that were completely abandoned, in areas of Tokyo where there wasn't a lot of human activity. Haru didn't want to kill anyone. He also took great pains to cover up his tracks and be as discreet as possible, for although he wanted to see that fireman, he didn't want to be seen by anyone else. He wasn't sure what exactly about the fireman motivated him, all he knew was that he had to see and feel that understanding again. There was something that he had experienced, something he couldn't put words to, and he didn't want to lose it.

So there he sat, on the fifth floor of the fire escape, watching his fifth arson decimate the Satsumori Distribution Warehouse. He was frozen in his spot, focused on the tall, athletic fireman's every move.

The man's jaw was set and his face looked focused and stoic, but his green eyes had an air of tiredness about them. Haru watched attentively as the fireman grabbed the firehose along with some of the other firemen, and they began to spray the building. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of water. Ironically, the sight of fire made him feel troubled and anxious, and the part he looked forward to during his arsons was when it was put out. His eyes followed the arc of the water as it flicked serpent-like against the crackling flames. Slowly, the fire began to disintegrate.

Once all that was left was a bare structure of the building and soggy ashes, the police and firemen packed up and left. Haru observed the man pause while climbing into the truck, where he looked back at the smoldering building. After a moment, he slipped into the truck and out of Haru's sight. The police and firefighters left, and the street was once again as silent and lonely as before, just permeated by the smell of smoke. It was 3:06 A.M..

There was a strange feeling in Haru's chest as the image of the fireman's eyes burned the back of his skull.  _Even after all of these fires, I still feel that,_  he mused, his hands a little shaky.  _What is it that he has that's so different from anyone I've ever seen?_ Shaking his head, he stood up and dusted himself off, shoving his hands in his pockets.  _I have to figure this out._  He clenched his jaw and started walking down the stairs, to go home.


	2. Blue

Blue

At 5:25 A.M., Makoto found himself fighting to stay awake in a back corner of the station's crowded meeting room. He had managed to fit in an hour and a half of sleep after his truck arrived back from the fire, but his shift didn't officially end until 7:00 A.M., so he still couldn't completely retire for the night. Instead, he was forced to attend a newly implemented, weekly meeting, titled: "The Serial Situation."

When the fire chief was first posting about the meeting, he had called Makoto for some feedback on the name.

" _I'm thinking, 'Sasabe's Serial Seminar'," he announced to Makoto in his sparsely furnished office. "Pretty clever, don't you think?"_

_Makoto bit his lip, not wanting to seem rude. He knew that the rest of the station found Chief Sasabe to be a bit off, and didn't want to see his friend and mentor fall victim to another office joke. "Maybe a bit less...alliteration?" he offered._

So Chief Sasabe had agreed to drop one "s", and call the meeting "The Serial Situation", and that brought Makoto back to his heavy-lidded state, slouching over in a thinly cushioned, plastic chair at 5:25 A.M..

Contrary to the rest of the men that filled the room, Chief Sasabe seemed to be in as high spirits as ever as he reviewed that night's report. Makoto wondered how it was possible to be so energetic when it was still dark out, but then he remembered that the Chief was coming back from his rare day off.

"Good work, all of you," Sasabe said, gesturing around the room before snapping his thin binder shut. "Sadly, the Satsumori Warehouse was completely demolished, but thankfully, the fire claimed no living victims."

When Sasabe's eyes rested on Makoto's, Makoto offered an apologetic nod. Naturally, the fire had left the civilian population completely unscathed, as hardly anyone lived that far on the outskirts of the city, but that wasn't what made the chief's statement seem so wasted and unnecessary. It was the fact that in the "serial situation", no civilians were ever killed or injured. It would seem that after five fires and three meetings, the department would have figured that out. It wasn't that civilians were lucky they didn't live near the sites of the arson, but the fact that the arsonist intentionally made sure that no people could possibly be hurt that should have had the department concerned. Why was someone setting abandoned buildings on fire?

Many times, when boredom struck, Makoto would find himself running an investigation in his head, trying to latch on to something that could link them to the culprit. There had been a time when he would have been much more active and intrigued by the notion of a serial arsonist itself, but he really just wanted to know why he was hosing down massive fires over and over again, for seemingly no reason.

Why abandoned buildings? Why so many? Why now?

Makoto often wondered if it was some sort of political opposition that had organized the fires. He looked at patterns in the buildings-the companies that owned them, their locations, their services-but nothing seemed to add up. The only similarities they shared was that they were far from the main city, stood alone, and had been abandoned for twenty or so more years. He couldn't see how burning those buildings could serve a political purpose, or any kind of motive for personal gain. How could burning the buildings help a personal grudge, or a grudge against a company if no one organization owned all five buildings? And what good would it do to burn down a building nobody wanted in the first place?

Makoto's list of potential motives was long: a stance against urbanization, a signal to another party, a tiring of looking at old, ugly buildings, a means to create art, a bet, a bad break-up, a lost job, a sick relative, a lacking childhood, a substance-induced haze… Most of those seemed like too far of a stretch for serial arson. Substance abuse seemed the most likely culprit, but fire under the influence would have left a corpse behind, and it wouldn't have happened more than once. The theories that involved some sort of unbridled rage seemed unlikely, too, as the fires Makoto had seen were far too calculated and clean to be products of blind anger. And as for the ones that involved a call to action, Makoto imagined that the parties involved would possibly want to be in the public eye-they wouldn't try so hard to cover up their tracks.

Sighing, Makoto rubbed his eyes. From what the policeman and the investigator that had taken the stage were saying, it seemed that Makoto wasn't the only one at a total loss.

"We're up against a real threat," the red-haired officer said, leaning over the conference table in the center of the room. "They're smart, and they're determined-"

"Are you saying that you still have no idea who it is?" one of the firemen interjected, causing the police officer to tense and bare his teeth. Makoto winced a bit at the sight of the sharp, white teeth that lined the officer's mouth. They almost resembled that of a shark.

"Mikoshiba, I swear to God," the officer growled before the investigator placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Rin, let's keep this professional," the investigator said in a low voice, expressionless. The officer named Rin Matsuoka seemed to listen, reluctantly pulling back from the table and letting his lips fall back over his teeth. Makoto relaxed a bit once the teeth were out of plain sight.

"Yes, Sousuke," Rin mumbled, adjusting his collar. "As I was saying," he continued, resuming his authoritative composure, "Our enemy isn't an easy one to catch. They may not be hurting civilians, but arson is a crime, and it's our job to bring them to justice." Rin let his words hang over the crowd for a moment before nodding and stepping aside for the investigator named Sousuke Yamazaki to speak.

"For the next few days, Officer Matsuoka and I will be reviewing the crime scene for evidence that might give us a clue as to who is all behind this. Before we begin with the standard questionnaire, we would like to review the previous cases again. I'll let Officer Matsuoka present them to you." Yamazaki nodded for Matsuoka, already cracking open a thick binder of papers, to begin.

"Our first case takes us to about a month ago…"

Makoto felt his eyelids flickering up and down, fighting his growing fatigue, as each of Matsuoka's words pushed him closer and closer to the brink of sleep. He had heard it all before, and more than once, and didn't care to hear it again after a long night of fire fighting. Despite his own objections, mental and physical, Makoto did his best job to appear engaged and pleasant. He didn't want to let Sasabe down like the rest of the department. Nearly half of them had their heads on a table and the other half made no effort to conceal their disinterest.

As the officer painted the picture of the case, Makoto's mind drifted back to the Satsumori Warehouse. He pictured himself alone, inside the empty building, a match in one hand and a can of gasoline in the other. He pictured the walls around him and the view of city lights beyond the windows. He imagined the distant sounds of cars on their way into the city and the pulsating silence of the city's outskirts. He imagined the cool night air on his skin and his hair being ruffled by a rogue breeze. Then, he cleared his mind and asked himself the same question he always did:

Why was he holding the match?

"...and we already reviewed tonight's case, so I'm going to turn you over to Investigator Yamazaki."

Makoto blinked a few times before coming back into the room. Yamazaki stood again in front, observing them cooly. He pulled out a pile of forms from within his messenger bag and slapped them down loudly on the table, making all of the firemen jump.

Makoto rubbed his eyes.  _Yeesh,_  he thought blearily. He dimly remembered a couple of other cases when the investigator had been working with the fire department, and his flair for intimidation and control _._

"I'm sorry about this," Yamazaki said, not sounding particularly sorry at all. "I know it's annoying, but I'm going to need you all to fill out a request for your background and criminal record and then have it filed in to me. It's just a formality really, but still necessary."

"What, do you not trust us?" Mikoshiba snarled loudly. He folded his muscled arms over his chest with an air of petulance.

Yamazaki's piercing eyes narrowed. He calmly glared at Mikoshiba, a muscle in his jaw clenching. The officer Matsuoka began to make his way over to Mikoshiba, but Yamazaki grabbed his arm and held him back. Even though Yamazaki was the one holding Matsuoka back, Makoto felt far more fearful of the dangerous glint in the investigator's eyes than the proposed violence from the officer.

"I don't make the law," Yamazaki said quietly, his voice terrifyingly smooth. Shivering slightly, Makoto hoped that he would never see the investigator truly angry. "Just fill out the damn form."

Makoto was handed his form on a plastic clipboard and pulled a pen from his shirt pocket. He knew that the information had to be filed individually for each case, but he really wished that he could have stopped filling out the same form after about the third fire. Pushing his hand back through his messy bangs, Makoto started to write.

The questions were as standard as they came-they could have been on any sort of application or questionnaire. Birthdate, residence, years of employment, family background, criminal history… It seemed a bit extensive, but Makoto finished quickly and handed it in.

The clock was ticking dangerously close to the seven mark, and Makoto was itching to leave. When Yamazaki announced that the meeting was over, Makoto sighed with relief and exited the room after saying goodbye to the chief.

His ride home on the subway was nothing short of painful, as the gentle lull of the moving train kept threatening to rock him to sleep. As he struggled to stay conscious, he sent out a silent thought to whoever the arsonist may be:  _Please, next time, don't set two fires in one week. I don't know if I could take this again._

* * *

"HARU-CHAN!"

Haru had not had a good night's sleep. After sneaking back into the apartment at around 3:30 A.M. he had laid in bed for another two hours, his body riddled with anxious trembling as he recounted over the events of the fire before falling into a fitful sleep. Unfortunately, the sleep didn't last very long as a loud, perky voice in his ear abruptly woke him. He rolled over and slowly opened his eyes, meeting two expectant, puppy dog brown eyes gazing down at him. Haru looked around, noticing that it was just barely light out.

"Nagisa?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. "What time is it?"

"7:33," Nagisa responded cheerfully. Haru became aware that Nagisa was sitting right on top of him, like a cat on his lap. He groaned, rubbing his eyes.  _It's too early for this._

"What do you want?" he sighed, recognizing the ridiculous smile that Nagisa was flashing endearingly at him.

Nagisa shifted forward and rested his chin in his hand, batting his eyes dolefully. "Well," said Nagisa, cocking his head slightly. "You know that jam bread that I eat for breakfast? The one from France."

"Mm," Haru grunted in affirmation.

"Well, we're out of it." Nagisa smile widened. He had the look of a deranged animal, foraging for their next meal. "And I was wondering if you could go get some?"

_God dammit._ "Why can't you or Rei do it?" he asked in a monotone.

"Rei refuses to get up until eight anymore, because he calibrated the exact amount of hours of sleep that would be most beneficial for him," Nagisa recounted. "And I have to take a shower and get ready, because I have work at 8:30.  _You_  don't have to be at work until noon." Nagisa raised his eyebrows pointedly.

For anyone else requesting it, Haru wouldn't have done it. But he had known Nagisa for a long time, and had seen all sides of him- and the hungry side of him was so terrifying that he avoided it at all costs. Even with the supposedly cheery attitude, Haru could see the beginnings of the darker, more depraved side of Nagisa Hazuki starting to show through, and he only knew it was a matter of time before the monster was unleashed.

Dejectedly, he rose from his comfy bed, and went out into the chilly morning air, pursuing the horrifically expensive French bread. After awkward encounters with the local drunks and various other characters that were out in the world, he returned to the apartment at 8:08. Rei was now awake and was watching the morning news while eating his breakfast, Nagisa sitting beside him.

"...and this is the fifth fire, according to the Tokyo Police Department," a smooth-voiced woman on the news was saying. "This 'serial arsonist', as they've been dubbed, set fire to the old Satsumori Distribution Warehouse last night at around 1 A.M.."

The shot changed to the familiar view of the warehouse burning, the firefighters and policemen swarming around it.

"No one has seen any person at the scene of the crimes, nor has the culprit left any incriminating evidence," the woman continued. "Investigation has been going on since their first fire, but at this point no one knows whether these fires are meant to serve as a message, or if the culprit is lighting them out of enjoyment."

Rei pointed the remote control at the television and muted it. "This world," he said, pushing up his glasses. "The lack of morality and ugliness we face on a daily basis now astounds me."

Nagisa was still watching the silent images of the Satsumori warehouse burning down. "Whoa," he exhaled in awe. "It's kinda creepy, don't you think? Like some comic book villain. You don't know where he's going to strike next!"

Rei scoffed. "Stop trying to romanticize it, Nagisa," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Arson is not beautiful. Whoever is behind this is a sick person and needs help."

"Don't say that Rei!" Nagisa gasped, looking both ways before crawling closer to Rei, who watched him with a fearful expression. "You never know when he might be watching," Nagisa whispered ominously, his chestnut eyes sparkling mischievously. "We might be his next target for saying that."

Rei gulped and laughed nervously. "Don't be ridiculous!" He waved Nagisa away. Noticing Haru standing alone in the doorway, holding a pink shopping bag filled with sugary, doughy French bread, he stood up. "Haruka!"

Haru jolted himself back into reality. He had been glued to his spot, hoping for neither of his roommates to notice him, feeling sure that they would be able to read his face. Purposely keeping his expression impassive, he silently walked to the kitchen counter and set the shopping bag on top of it. Nagisa shoved Haru out of the way and began ravenously tearing through the packaging.

Haru dazedly stumbled out of the way. Rei and Nagisa were talking about something, but none of their words sank in. Haru sat down on the couch, tuning them out while trying to control his uneven breath and shaky hands. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but arson was now invading his daily life. He knew it was only a matter of time before it somehow slipped in, but it only made him more nervous of slipping up and revealing himself. And… he couldn't deny that he felt hurt over what Rei and Nagisa had said, even though if he were in their places, he probably would think the same of an arsonist. He knew arson was wrong and yet… For some frustrating, painful reason, whenever he pictured the fireman's gem-like eyes, he couldn't imagine anything he wouldn't do to see them.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ Haru rubbed his forehead, trying to lessen the burning obsession in his mind.

At some point, Haru's head snapped up, noticing the light change and the loud bustle of cars and people from outside. He realized that an hour had passed and he was completely alone in the apartment.  _When did that happen? Rei and Nagisa were just here…_ He shook his head and blinked his eyes, a twitchiness taking over his body. He felt an overwhelming rush of dirtiness and taintedness, so he stood up in a daze from the couch and rushed to the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, he began splashing his face with water. The cool water instantly stabilized him. Sighing, he turned the water off and rested his weight on his hands on the pedestal of the sink. He looked up at his own reflection, his dark bangs plastered to his forehead. Water droplets trickled down his face, settling into his long eyelashes. Despite the roiling boil raging inside his mind, his blue eyes revealed nothing of his internal thoughts.

_Am I a sick person?_

* * *

It had been two days since the arsonist's last fire and Makoto found himself on his day off, browsing through the crowded fish market. He always went there to pick up food for his family when he had the chance, and the trip often took too long to be completed in between shifts at the station.

After completing four years of university, Makoto had been forced to dash his plans of pursuing a law degree in order to save his family money. His father had been diagnosed with stage three lung cancer, and its rapid progression and aggressive treatment plan ensured expensive medical bills. He couldn't afford the tuition for graduate school, even with a part-time job at a restaurant near campus, and he wasn't about to take out loans and fall thousands of dollars into student debt. His mother needed help at home with his younger siblings, Ren and Ran, while she commuted to and from the hospital, so it made sense for Makoto to return home and support her. He also wanted to be close to his father if the worst came to be. That's when he joined the local fire department.

Despite the swarming hordes of people around him, Makoto noted that the fish market wasn't quite as busy as usual. He thanked whatever was keeping people home for making his transit to the mackerel stand just a little bit easier.

The fish market itself was a massive, sprawling operation. The smells of fresh fish and sea water swirled around Makoto's head as he walked, throwing him into sensory overload. Vendors everywhere where hauling and throwing fish, shouting out to employees and customers in one, consuming sound of chaos. Makoto laughed and shook his head when a short, weather-beaten man attempted to pull him into his stand. The man was selling tuna, but Makoto was there to buy mackerel for his younger siblings.

The mackerel stand was among the stands at the far end of the market, closest to the docks. Upon seeing Makoto approaching, the stand keeper waved. Makoto came to the stand often enough to be on friendly terms with the keeper, Kagari.

"Good morning Kagari-san!" Makoto said cheerily as he ducked under the awning.

"Good morning, Makoto!" Kagari replied before turning over his shoulder and shouting, "Haru-chan! Can you bring out some more horse mackerel? We're running low."

"Don't call me Haru-chan," came a distinctly male voice from the back of the stand. Makoto scratched his head...chan?

Kagari shook his head, chuckling. He turned back to Makoto and smiled.

"I didn't realize you had employees," Makoto said, a bit confused. He had never encountered anyone besides Kagari at the stand before, and just assumed that Kagari ran it on his own.

"Yeah, most people don't," Kagari explained. "Haru generally stays in the back, and he's not really that great with customers, so it works out fine. Usually he isn't here this late in the day, since he likes to finish work before the rush of people start pouring in, but he's been showing up later and later these past few months. But nevermind that-I'm rambling. What can I get for you today?"

"Actually, I'll have some of the horse mackerel," Makoto said, laughing. He found Kagari's short tangent about his worker quite amusing, and was wondering if he'd be lucky enough to finally catch a glimpse of the elusive Haru for himself. It was hard to believe he'd been coming to the stand for as long as he could remember, but had never encountered another employee. Come to think of it, it did seem odd that Kagari could run a decent-sized business all by himself. "Three kilos should be enough."

Kagari tapped his foot, clearly waiting for the worker to emerge with the fish. "Haru-cha-"

"I brought the fish." The apathetic voice of the other male cut Kagari off before he could finish pronouncing "-chan". Seconds later, the plastic partition behind Kagari was swept aside, revealing the speaker.

The worker named Haru looked to be about Makoto's age, perhaps a bit younger, whose raven-black hair concealed his face as he hoisted up a crate full of fish. He seemed to be fairly strong, carrying such a large load all by himself. His lean muscles strained against his navy blue shirt that stood in stark contrast against his alabaster skin as he moved. After dropping the two crates on the ground, Haru began unloading fish onto the table.

"So, Makoto, how's your father doing?" Kagari asked as he waited for Haru to finish with the crates.

Makoto blinked for a couple of seconds before tearing his gaze away from Haru's methodical fish sorting.  _He must really not want to be seen if I've missed him all these years…_ Makoto shrugged and flashed a half-hearted smile, forcing his mind to focus on something other than the man a few meters away from him. "We thought he wasn't going to make it through the year, but he's still hanging on. The doctors are hopeful that the next round of medicine should really do the trick."

Despite their less than cheery situation, Makoto and his family members always tried to stay positive. It was hard, but letting his father's condition dampen Makoto's own spirit wasn't going to do anybody any good. So he smiled, and didn't tell people that the doctors knew his father's illness was terminal-he didn't want to bother anyone else with his own troubles.

"I'm glad to see that things are looking up for your family," Kagari replied sweetly, obviously convinced by Makoto's deceptive optimism. Makoto did, of course, want to believe that things were going to turn around, but he couldn't ignore the facts.

A sudden crashing noise filled the air, making Makoto jump in surprise. "Haru-chan!" Kagari exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips. Evidently, from the pool of mackerel now littering the ground, Haru had dropped an armful of fish. Kagari was quickly absorbed in the fuss of cleaning up the mess, but what drew Makoto into the scene wasn't the fish-it was a pair of the deepest, sapphire eyes he had ever seen, completely fixated on  _him_.

In just an instant, Haru blinked and cut the connection, training his focus back to the fish at his feet. He quickly swept up the mackerel and placed it back in neat rows on the table, apologizing to Kagari for his fumble.

"Haru-chan, you need to be more careful," Kagari scolded as he helped organize the disturbed contents of the table.

As Makoto watched the two men mess with the fish, his mind drifted back to moments before, sucked into Haru's bottomless blue gaze. Makoto hadn't noticed his eyes when he first came out since Haru's bangs were swept down over his face, but Makoto wouldn't have put it past himself to not drop something locked in the other male's shocking gaze. There was just something about Haru's eyes, as if they presented a whole book, its contents hidden in a thick binding. They seemed to be locked with some type of code, begging to be cracked.

Makoto shook his head, realizing he had been staring off into space, when Kagari smacked three kilos of horse mackerel down on the counter in front of him.

"That will be four-hundred yen," Kagari said, extending an open palm. As Makoto dug through his wallet for the money, another customer walked up to the stand, distracting Kagari. "Makoto, you can just pay Haru, I have to take care of this customer. I'm glad to hear your father is doing well." Kagari waved his hand and walked off, leaving Makoto alone with Haru.

Haru, who had finished arranging the rest of the mackerel, stood perfectly still as Makoto produced the money and extended it to him. Haru blinked a few times from beneath the cover of his silky bangs before reaching out and receiving the cash from Makoto.

"Thanks, Haru…" Makoto stumbled over the end of Haru's name, almost adding a "-chan" like Kagari did. He covered up his slight slip-up by tilting his head and smiling warmly, closing his eyes for a break from Haru's penetrating glare.

"I always tell him to stop calling me 'Haru-chan', but he never listens."

Makoto's eyes snapped back open when Haru spoke, the distinct monotone ringing in his ears.

"I have a girly name and he makes fun of it," Haru continued. He had his thumbs hooked in his pockets, and was thankfully staring down at his shoes, awkwardly shuffling his feet.

"N-No," Makoto replied, voice catching a bit, "Haru-cha-I mean, is Haru short for Haruka? H-Haruka is a very nice name…" Makoto stumbled over his words, but they seemed to have the desired effect because Haru looked up, something new glinting in his deep, blue eyes. Makoto gained back his usual confidence, offering another smile. "I have a girly name too. My name is-"

"Makoto," Haru finished the sentence for him, face downcast once again. Makoto laughed.

"Yeah, Makoto."

Makoto stood in silence for a few moments, waiting for Haru to reply, but a verbal response never came. Instead, Makoto observed the corner of Haru's mouth twitch slightly, as if he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. Kagari had specifically said that Haru wasn't good with customers, so Makoto decided to try and ease his discomfort with asking another question of his own. That way, Haru wouldn't have to think so hard about what to say to break the ice.

"I've never seen you here before," Makoto continued. "I didn't even realize someone other than Kagari worked here until today."

"I usually work in the mornings, and I stay in the back," Haru explained. "I'm not… I'm better with fish than… people." He made a soft hissing noise and looked down, gritting his teeth. Makoto took it as a sign not to press any further, and although he did want to chat some more, he could tell that Haru didn't. He bowed his head and backed away from Haru, giving him a little more space for comfort and a sign that he was headed on his way.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Haru-chan!" Makoto said with a wave, a warm laugh in his voice. He picked up the mackerel on his way out. "Maybe I'll see you again some time." Though he highly doubted it, seeing how Haru had managed to evade him for as long as he had worked at the stand, apparently, Makoto thought he would make the gesture anyways. He thought he heard Haru mumbling, "Drop the '-chan'," as he walked away, which only made him smile brighter. Something about Haru's request seemed empty, as if he didn't really mind the "-chan" at all.

As Makoto walked out of the fish market, back to his home, he noticed he had a strange desire to talk to Haru again, intrigued by the dark haired man. Normally, he wouldn't have put much meaning to such an interaction, simply enjoying the chat and heading on his way but... Something about those deep blue eyes felt like an enigma, yet oddly familiar and comforting. Makoto shook his head, trying to expel thoughts of the young fish market worker as he made his way back home, all the while struggling with an unanswerable question of which was more unsettling: what he  _had_ seen, or what he hadn't.


	3. Falling

Falling

_Makoto._

The name had been a soft whisper in Haru's ear since the day at the market. A week had passed, but every moment was perpetually replaying in his mind, making him even more quiet and passive than ever. It had filled him with panic, seeing those eyes up close and having a conversation with the fireman, who he now knew the name to. It seemed almost insane-the one person that Haru had wanted to see, but hadn't wanted to have see him, ended up being a customer at the little fish stand he happened to work at.  _Does this mean he likes mackerel too?_ Haru nearly slapped himself at the thought.  _Why are you thinking about something like that?_

Haru was currently swimming in the pool that Nagisa paid for his membership to. He particularly liked this pool because although it was indoors, it had a sunroof that opened to the night sky. Despite being in the heart of Tokyo, with all it's lights and big-city bustle, the moon and a smattering of stars were visible if one was floating on their back, as Haru was. The pool technically had closed several hours ago, but Nagisa had somehow wrangled the owner into allowing Haru to stay and swim for longer, as long as he shut off all the lights and cleaned up before he left.

Usually, he stayed out late in the pool when he was particularly stressed or when he had a lot going through his mind. The pool was some holy ground where emotions and worries did not exist for Haru. When he was in the pool, he acted completely on instinct, unaware of himself as a person, simply moving through the glassiness of the water around him. But on this night, he had unwelcome guests with him in the pool: thoughts. Instead of listening to the soft rustle of the waves splashing up against his eardrums, Haru was listening to his replayal of Makoto's voice.

" _Thanks, Haru…"_

" _Haruka is a fine name."_

" _I have a girly name too."_

" _It was nice to meet you, Haru-chan!"_

" _Maybe I'll see you again some time."_

Even though he absolutely detested being called -chan, the corners of Haru's mouth twitched up slightly. It didn't sound so bad when Makoto said it…

Haru snapped himself out of his reverie and took in a deep breath of air before diving to the bottom of the pool. Even the peaceful void of the underwater world couldn't soothe his swirling mind. Once he began thinking of Makoto, all morality went down the drain. Suddenly fueled by feverish need, he rose to the surface of the pool and quickly jumped out, not even bothering to dry himself off before putting on his jeans over his wet swimsuit. After picking up his backpack, he quickly turned off the lights and locked the door behind him. Haru left the pool and sat down on the sidewalk outside, his mind racing. He pulled out his hoodie and put it on, shielding his wet hair from the crisp nighttime air. Not even truly aware of what he was doing, a sudden image flashed in his mind, inspiring him to move. He picked up his backpack and jumped up, heading off to make the distant thought a reality.

After about twenty minutes, Haru reached his destination. Overlooking the Tokyo Bay, a mildewy, barnacle encrusted dock stood, it's timbers half sunken into the water. It had once been used as a fishing dock, but its remote location proved inconvenient in the growing demand for fish, so it was left to rot. Haru took a moment to analyze it before dropping his backpack on the ground and pulling out all of his familiar tools and utensils.

He quickly got to work spreading gasoline over the dock. He applied it carefully and conservatively, considering the entire structure was composed of wood. Before Haru knew it, the dock was ablaze, and he had retreated to his hiding spot, a hundred or so feet away, perched in the window of a small abandoned watchtower, unsure of how he had managed to get up there. He looked at his hands. In his quick actions and muddled mind, he barely remembered lighting the match.

About twenty minutes later, the sirens began to sound. The nerves he had grown far too familiar with settled in his stomach as he watched a single firetruck and a police car speed down to the dockside.

Makoto was there.

Haru's chest tightened as he watched the tall form of the firefighter-the enchantment amplified by the glowing smile and sound of his voice in Haru's head. Trying to catch a better glimpse from his vantage point, Haru shifted his weight slightly, craning his neck out a window as far as he dared. In his mesmerization, he had leaned his weight into his right arm without realizing his hand wasn't meeting anything solid until it was too late. In almost slow motion, his body followed his hand's lead, and he tipped out of the window.  _Shit!_ Unfortunately, the gravity Haru was accustomed to in a pool was not the same gravity twenty feet in the air in an old watchtower. Unable find anything to hold onto, Haru dropped like stone into the Tokyo Bay.

SPLASH!

As much as Haru liked water, he hadn't really planned on taking a swim in the freezing bay water. He wasn't really sure what lurked beneath the surface, and he wasn't keen to find out. He quickly surfaced and felt mildly irritated that he hadn't been able to remove his clothes before his impromptu dip. His waterlogged sweatshirt billowed around him. It was heavy and cumbersome, so he wriggled out of it and tossed to land, and then swam after it. He dragged his body onto the dry shore, panting slightly. After standing up, he walked over to where his sweatshirt had landed and attempted to wring it out so he could put it back on again, but it was so soaked that he gave up. He mentally cursed himself for being so dazed that he hadn't even paid attention to the condition of the watchtower, with it's dilapidated gaps and crumbling windowsills. He sighed, lifting his head up, and realized that someone from a hundred feet away was watching him.

For a flicker of a moment Haru saw green reflected back at him in the darkness, before he came to his senses and dashed out of sight.

Haru didn't stop running until he was in a dark alley, a good five or so blocks away from the dock. He clutched his hand to his bare chest, over his racing heart.

 _Dammit, Haru,_  he berated himself.  _Makoto saw you._

* * *

_What was that splash?_

Makoto stood a few meters from the edge of the burning dock, holding the hose that would extinguish the arsonist's most recent fire. That particular night's fire had been the subject of controversy at the station and on the ride over, seeing as it was definitely arson, but perhaps not the work of the famed "serial arsonist".

The serial arsonist had a record of setting fire to abandoned buildings, not abandoned docks. Makoto wondered if the police would be able to make any connections between the lighting of the current fire and the arsonist's past fires after the flames were put out. They all knew they could rule out an accident, seeing as the scent of gasoline filled the air and a structure surrounded by water never would have caught fire unless someone had intended it to.

A splash some hundred feet away broke Makoto from his staring contest with the flames. The light from the fire didn't cast very far, so Makoto had to rely on the silver light of the moon as he gazed out over the water. He made out a pattern of ripples, most likely originating out from the location of the initial splash, and a small, dark blob cutting through the reflective surface of the sparkling water.

 _Could it be a dolphin?_ It was certainly moving like one, the main blob resembling a swift fin as a few smaller blobs occasionally surfaced around it. Makoto shook his head-dolphins rarely ventured so far into the bay, and when they did, they usually ended up beached. And they hardly ever traveled alone…

Just when Makoto was about to squint to get a closer look, a lithe, sculpted figure emerged from the water, skin glittering in the moonlight. It appeared to be a young man, or maybe a teenager. Makoto gasped faintly as the figure shook his head from side to side, the fuzzy outline of his hair following in a beautiful sweep, flicking water out in arcs in its trail. The figure's muscles rippled in the dim light as he hoisted himself onto the land and picked something up. For a moment, Makoto could have sworn the figure had looked directly at him before darting off into the cover of the buildings.

"Hey, Makoto, you're supposed to point the hose at the  _fire._ "

Makoto snapped his head away from the distant waters to see that he had completely forgotten about the hose he was holding, and the fire in general. He had dropped his hands so that the stream of water was directly pointed at...well...the water.

"Oh, thanks, Mikoshiba," Makoto mumbled to the golden-eyed man behind him as he repositioned the hose in his hands. "I guess I just got distracted."

"Those aren't exactly the words I'd like to hear come out of a firefighter's mouth, Mr. Tachibana," the police officer, Matsuoka, said with a devious smile as he walked past, his teeth flashing ominously in the dim nighttime light. Makoto sighed. Of course he had to slip up in front of an officer…

Before directing his attention completely back on the flames in front of him, Makoto stole one last look at the shore where the man had been.  _Had no one else seen him?_ The area, of course, was empty, and Makoto's heart sank a bit in his chest at the sight of the barren land.

But what had he been hoping for anyways?

* * *

"Haru-chan!" Kagari's voice wafted from the front of the mackerel stand. "Make sure to organize that new shipment by four today, yeah?"

Not pausing in his sorting of fish, Haru sighed and called out, "Stop calling me -chan." He dug through the mackerel, their wet sliminess leaving a residue on his gloved hands.

Haru had barely left the back of the stand since his latest fire, which was perfectly fine with Kagari, who often complained that Haru scared away the customers when he was up front. Haru preferred quietly sorting through fish to being a salesman any day. He had also felt the need to keep low after his slip up at the dock fire, afraid of showing his face again. He worried over whether or not Makoto had recognized him from that distance, and the possibility of being arrested at any minute. He did all he could not to freak out, and focused on sorting the fish.

"Hello!" Haru heard Kagari greet a customer. Kagari was a master at connecting with his customers, and most of them coming back not just for the fish, but for Kagari himself. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thanks," a high pitched female voice replied. She and Kagari began conversing about her daughter, making Haru tune out and focus on the mackerel again.

As he worked, Haru's mind drifted to the night of the dock, nearly slapping himself as he replayed falling out of the watchtower. In his attempt to catch a closer glimpse at Makoto, he had completely forgotten that he was at his own arson where there was the very real possibility of being arrested.  _God, Haru you're such an idiot!_  Even his meticulousness and wariness about his fires were crumbling along with his morality when he was faced with Makoto. Haru blinked, realizing that he had dumped a ton of mackerels into the discard bucket while being sucked into his thoughts. He sighed in frustration, bending over to start digging them out.  _You can't even focus on fish properly…_

"Oh, hi!" Haru heard Kagari suddenly burst out, breaking off his conversation with the woman to greet a new customer.

"How are you, Kagari-san?" a polite, familiar voice questioned.

Haru froze, bent over the discard bucket, fingers dripping with fishy water.  _SHIT._ Glancing around, he frantically tried to find an exit to make an escape, but the only way in and out was through the plastic partition to the front of the stand.

"Oh you know, the fish business has its ups and downs," Kagari replied, chuckling deeply. "So, you're back here pretty soon. Buying more already?"

The voice laughed, pealing like bells. "No, no, I'm um, not here to buy fish," it answered. Alarm bells rang in Haru's head. The speaker paused, and Haru could hear their weight shuffling between their feet. "Actually, I was um, wondering, is H-Haru here?"

"Uh, yeah, he's in the back." Kagari sounded surprised. "Hey, Haru!" he belted. "You have someone asking for you!"

Panicking, Haru furiously racked his mind for a quick excuse. "I haven't finished sorting the king mackerel yet," he mumbled lamely, wincing.

"But this is a momentous occasion!" Kagari reprimanded, chuckling. "No customer has ever asked for you before."

Haru bit his lip, silently cursing. He could tell that there was no way of getting out of this. He nervously dropped the fish he was holding into the bucket and removed his gloves, setting them down carefully beside the bucket. He took in a rattly breath, and pushed away the plastic partition. The back of the stand was much darker than the front, so it took Haru's eyes a moment to adjust. Out of the brightness, he saw a tall figure standing in front of the display stand.

"Hey Haru-chan!" Makoto greeted, tilting his head a bit. His green eyes warmly met Haru's blue ones.

Haru turned his head away, trying to contain his nerves. "Drop the -chan," he muttered, a slight smile brimming on his lips, despite himself, at the sound of Makoto saying his name.

Makoto laughed at Haru's peevishness, his voice light and bubbly. He moved away from the stand, where the other customer remained, and began walking closer to Haru. Once Makoto left the stand, Kagari turned his attention back to the other customer. Makoto stopped about three feet away from Haru. Haru looked up at the taller man, who was watching him intently. Heart racing, Haru stared into Makoto's eyes, which had several strands of ruffled brown hair draped over them. There they were-those emeralds that he had formed an obsession over, right in front of him, kindly focused straight into his eyes. They remained there a moment, silent. It was like when Haru was underwater, calm and devoid of the passage of time. Haru heard nothing but his heart thumping violently in his chest, and distractedly worried that Makoto could hear it as well. A small blush appeared on Makoto's cheeks, and then he smiled and clumsily broke the connection, running a hand through his scruffy hair.

"So, Haru," Makoto said, meeting Haru's eyes again, although slightly less intensely. He paused, as if searching for what to say. "Um, h-how have you been?"

Haru blinked. "Fine," he replied passively.  _What is he doing? Why is he asking how I've been?_

"Good!" Makoto exclaimed, a little over-enthusiastically. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, a blush appearing on face again. "Did you see that news story about that arson of a dock?" he blurted.

Haru's chest clenched.  _I knew he saw me!_  "I don't watch the news," he responded flatly.  _Dammit Haru, what have you gotten yourself into?_

"Oh." Makoto's effervescence appeared to dampen a little with Haru's cool response. "Well, I'm a firefighter, so I was there when it happened, and while we were putting out the fire, I saw the strangest thing!" His buoyancy returned as he got into the story, and Haru resisted smiling at Makoto's excitement. "I heard this splash from about a hundred feet away, so I turned and saw something in the Tokyo Bay! At first I thought it was was a dolphin because it was moving so gracefully and sleekly, but then I remembered they don't really swim in this far… But anyways, it turned out to be a person. It was kind of hard to tell from far away what they looked like, though. But then they disappeared. I had one of the officers go check it out, but they didn't find anything." He smiled brightly. "I'm not sure why I thought of that just now. It's a weird story, huh?"

Unable to tell if Makoto had actually recognized him and was hinting at it or not, Haru nodded slightly. "Yeah, that's pretty weird," he agreed.

"Yeah..." Makoto said, shifting his weight slightly. He looked looked down at his feet. "So anyway… um… you have a cell phone, right?"

Haru inhaled sharply, his brow furrowing. "Yeah, I do..." he said slowly.

"Well, I was wondering… um…" Makoto was struggling with his words, his face red. He scuffed his shoe on the ground. "If I c-could, perhaps, get your number?"

Haru's eyes widened before he got a hold of himself and retreated back into his calm shell.

"I-I enjoy talking with you," Makoto added, his eyes watching Haru wishfully. "I'd um, like to get to know you more…"

Haru stood in abject shock for a moment, staring at Makoto with disbelief before abruptly turning away from him and walking into the back of the stand. Makoto watched him with wide, confused eyes as he returned, a black marker in his hand. He reached out for Makoto's arm, whose innocent look of surprise made it difficult for Haru to maintain his neutral expression. He cradled Makoto's forearm in his smaller hand, uncapping the pen. He began to write on the underside of the forearm, observing the smooth, lightly tanned skin beneath it and Makoto's large, powerful hands.

Haru finished writing and capped the pen, letting go of Makoto's arm. He stepped a few feet back. "That's my number," he said, bowing his head slightly.

Makoto's smile brightened. "A-Ah, thanks, Haru." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, I guess I'll see you around, then."

"Yeah," Haru said. "I guess so."

Makoto started walking away, and then turned back and called out, "Bye, Haru-chan!" He laughed at Haru's look of irritation, before turning around and disappearing into the sea of fish shoppers.

Haru stood in abject shock.  _What just happened?_  He almost didn't believe that it was real.  _Makoto… enjoys talking with me?_  Haru had never heard someone tell him that before. He hadn't even said that much in their conversations.  _Does he not mind?_  He shook his head.  _Why did I feel free to give him my number so easily?_

He noticed that the customer who had been with Kagari was gone, and Kagari had been watching his whole exchange with Makoto. Kagari pointedly wiggled his bushy eyebrows at Haru, who blushed and immediately rushed back to the safety of the back of the stand.

Once alone, Haru stood staring at the wall, thinking over what had just happened. The smile he had been fighting through the whole encounter finally won and spread over his face.


	4. It Just Comes Naturally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Texting, hair sniffing, and general gayness. What else would you expect.

It Just Comes Naturally

**From: Makoto Tachibana**

**You certainly seem to like water and aquatic stuff a lot :) Did you grow up in a fishing town or something?**

Haru felt a little flutter in his stomach when he read the text message. He was pleasantly surprised at what had unfolded; not only had Makoto asked for his number, but he texted him straight after getting it. Conversation started awkwardly, but the two of them progressively grew more comfortable with questions and responding. Well, it was Makoto who mainly asked questions and Haru who responded, but Makoto didn't seem to mind. For every answer he received, he had another question to ask. Haru generally gave short and terse answers, but he slowly began to give slightly longer and more detailed texts, as he grew less nervous.

**To: Makoto Tachibana**

**No, I've lived here in Tokyo my whole life.**

The two of them had been texting back and forth for the past hour or so. Haru was surprised how easily the conversation had been flowing, with barely any awkward moments. Makoto seemed really comfortable with Haru, considering how they had only spoken in person twice. Haru was surprised and couldn't explain why he felt so free to respond and why he trusted Makoto so easily. It just felt… natural.

Haru's pulse went up when he felt his phone buzz.

**From: Makoto Tachibana**

**Really? That's surprising. You seem much more suited for a little seaside town than Tokyo haha**

Haru was about to type a response when his phone buzzed again.

**From: Makoto Tachibana**

**Hey, my fingers are getting tired from typing so much haha do you mind if we continue the conversation over the phone? It'd be easier to say it instead of having to type it out**

Haru's stomach clenched. He wanted to talk to Makoto, but over the phone…? He hated phone conversations and made a point to avoid them when possible. But with Makoto… His desire for whatever connection he had with Makoto seemed to trump his dislike. Hands shaking, he typed out a response.

**To: Makoto Tachibana**

**Fine.**

He set the phone down on his bedspread, breathing heavily. His eyes watched it apprehensively, waiting for it to ring, worrying about how he would answer and how to cover up his awkwardness.  _What do I say?_  he thought anxiously.  _What if I say something stupid? What if I say something relating to the arsons? What if I don't say anything at all? What if he thinks I'm boring? What if he decides he isn't interested in talking to me anymore?_ A thousand negative possibilities ran through his mind, growing in ridiculousness and implausibility. Haru shook his head.  _It's just a phone conversation,_  he told himself. The statement didn't make him feel any better.

The phone began to ring, Makoto Tachibana as the caller. Panicked, Haru was instantly filled with regret about saying fine to a phone conversation.  _Oh god._ Hand trembling, he slowly reached for it, and took it in his hand. He stared at it for a moment, trying to calm his shaky breaths, before inhaling and pressing 'Answer'.

"Hello?" Haru said. He silently congratulated himself for keeping his voice relaxed and passive.  _You can do this._

"Hey, Haru-chan!" Makoto's cheerful voice responded, making the jitters in Haru's body worse.

"Don't call me -chan..." Haru mumbled, half meaning it.

Makoto laughed. "Of course," he said lightly, seeming to know that Haru didn't really mind. "So what were we talking about? Oh! I was surprised that you've lived here in Tokyo your whole life."

Haru held his breath, unsure of whether to respond or not. Or what to say if he did respond. The phone grew heavy in his shaking hands as he opened his mouth, and then closed it. There was an awkward pause as Haru frantically racked his brain for something to keep the conversation going.

But Makoto saved him and picked it up for him. "So where did your interest in water come from?" he asked, sounding truly intrigued.

"Oh, uh…" Haru said awkwardly. His palms grew sweaty. "I don't really know…" He trailed off, suddenly forgetting all the reasons why he liked water and the ocean, his mind horrifically blank. As seconds ticked by, Haru grew more mortified and desperate.  _Pull it together!_  He mentally punched himself.

Yet again, Makoto came to his rescue. "No, I get it," Makoto quickly interjected. "Sometimes there isn't a clear reason why you like something. You just do." Haru could picture him smiling understandingly. "It just comes naturally."

Haru blinked. "Yeah…" he said slowly. He was amazed at how easily Makoto picked up when he was uncomfortable and was able to turn it around. It was almost innate. Haru had never experienced someone or something that could simultaneously make him feel nervous and relaxed. He wasn't sure what to think. He couldn't see a reason why Makoto would take the time to ask him questions and comfort him… unless he liked Haru? A jolt went through Haru's body as he replayed Makoto's last statement in his head. He supposed that it could be applied not only to his love of water, but how he felt about Makoto, and how… perhaps… Makoto felt about him?

Makoto coughed awkwardly. "U-Um, anyways!" Haru could hear a slight jumpiness in his voice.  _Is Makoto nervous?_  He couldn't think of why Makoto would be nervous too in this situation. Makoto laughed, sounding like he was trying to shake off his discomfort. "So… I guess you like working at the fish market?"

"Yeah," Haru answered. "I like mackerel."

"Ah, that wasn't exactly what I meant…" Makoto chuckled. "I mean, I guess you'd have to like it, considering you have to sort through it every day."

"Mm," Haru grunted in agreeance.

"Does it not get boring?" Makoto continued.

"Not really," Haru said noncommittally. "It's kind of… peaceful, I guess."

Haru heard a light huff in his ear. "Hm, I can see that," Makoto mused, sounding thoughtful. "So how long have you been working there?"

"Oh," Haru said. "About four years, I think."

"Wow," replied Makoto. "That's a long time. I'm still surprised I never saw you there before. You and Kagari-san must be pretty close, then?"

"I guess." Haru shrugged, even though he knew Makoto couldn't see it. "It's not like we have time to spend talking."

"Yeah, I suppose not," Makoto agreed. "I'm pretty close with the other firemen at my station, considering I've been there for three years. But you kind of have to be close with-or at least trust-everyone who works there. We have to know everyone inside out, and be able to work as a team."

"Oh," Haru murmured. He couldn't think of anything interesting to say in response, but he guessed that Makoto would continue.

"I guess you could say I'm relatively good at understanding people," Makoto indeed continued. He paused. Haru wasn't sure where he was going. A moment ago he was talking about his job, but something in his voice suggested he was thinking something else. He took a deep breath in. "Haru… you don't like talking on the phone, do you?"

Haru's stomach dropped in surprise. "Uh…" He felt himself blushing in embarrassment. It was almost a little scary how well Makoto read him. "Not… really…" he admitted sheepishly.

Makoto let out a bubbly laugh. "It's fine," he chuckled soothingly. "I don't want to force you to do something you don't like, so we can go back to texting, if you'd prefer."

Haru exhaled in relief. "Yeah," he answered. A small smile played on his lips.

"Alright, I'll hang up," Makoto said. "Bye-"

"Wait!" Haru suddenly called out, his pulse racing.

"Huh?" Makoto questioned, and Haru could practically see his eyebrows raising.

"Um…" Haru began quietly, his blush increasing. He squirmed in discomfort. "I really did want to talk with you… I just don't really feel comfortable when talking on the phone…" He trailed off, feeling even more flustered and surprised at his outburst.

There was a brief silence on the other end before Makoto spoke again. "Thanks, Haru," he murmured softly.

"Huh?" Haru blurted, confused. "Why are you thanking me?"

"A-Ah, well, you did something you hated, f-for me," Makoto stammered. "I… I appreciate that."

"Oh," Haru breathed, his blood pounding in his ears. "It's not a big deal…" he grumbled, eliciting a chuckle from Makoto.

"It is to me…" Makoto said almost inaudibly, a little bit of shyness in his voice. He coughed loudly. "Well, bye then!"

"Bye," Haru repeated quietly, and a little beep from his phone told him that Makoto hung up.

Haru slowly pulled the phone away from his ear, sighing. He set it back down on his bed, his hands still shaking. He drew his knees to his chest, his arms wrapped around his calves as he watched his phone.  _Makoto's fine with me not liking to talk on the phone?_  he wondered to himself, memories of various people who scoffed at his fear and discomfort and told him to "just get over" flashing through his mind. Makoto didn't show any interest in wanting to help or change Haru and seemed to completely accept Haru's awkwardness.

A sudden banging on Haru's door snapped him out of his thoughts. "What?" he called out.

Nagisa poked his head in. "Haru-chan, I heard your voice in here a minute ago," he said, his brown eyes watching Haru questioningly. "Were you talking to someone?"

Haru recoiled slightly. "No," he scoffed, turning his face away. "You must be hearing things."

Nagisa raised his eyebrows. "You weren't talking to  _yourself_ , now were you?" he chimed teasingly. "I mean, the voices in my head aren't usually the best conversationalists…" Haru rolled his eyes as Nagisa continued laughing. "Well, I only ask because I've never heard you talking in your room before."

Haru sighed. "I wasn't talking, Nagisa," he said exasperatedly, hoping Nagisa would drop it.

"If you say so," Nagisa conceded, winking coyly before he slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Haru exhaled sharply, feeling a little glimmer of annoyance and anxiety. He absentmindedly stared at the door for a moment before his phone buzzed. The jitters from earlier returned and he glanced down and picked up his phone to read the text.

**From: Makoto Tachibana**

**So to ask a completely unoriginal question, what kind of movies do you like? Haha :)**

* * *

"What's with the damn coffee maker?" Rin huffed, banging the side of the machine with his fist. His balled up hand was quickly met with the calm touch of another. Cool teal eyes met Rin's fiery garnets and Rin bit his lip, not-so-silently cursing as he drew blood.

"Rin, let me," Sousuke said as he brushed a thumb over Rin's bottom lip, depositing the collected droplets of blood on a napkin and throwing it in the trash. "And you don't want black coffee, you don't like it." Rin shrugged his shoulders and let his face fall to the side, quickly covered by his hair.

"I was just going to have what you were having," Rin offered, gesturing at the faulty machine.

Sousuke remained silent as he pushed Rin aside, crossing the break-room table to the cappuccino machine where he punched in a few buttons before positioning a cardboard cup beneath the stream of frothy liquid. The aroma of french vanilla filled the air and moments later, Sousuke handed the steaming cup to Rin.

"Be careful, it's hot," Sousuke cautioned. Rin rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Rin took a hearty sip anyways, trying to hide his sharp discomfort as the coffee scorched his tongue.

A few minutes later, Sousuke had managed to fix the regular coffee maker and was sipping his own cup full of the drink. Rin crinkled his nose as he imagined the taste of black coffee in Sousuke's mouth-he had always hated it.

"So what are your thoughts on the dock fire?" Rin asked as Sousuke took a seat at the main table and began laying out stacks of paperwork. Rin noted several images of the serial arsonist's work resting in one of Sousuke's folders.

Sousuke sighed wearily and set his coffee on the table, away from the paperwork and images. He rubbed his eyes. Rin had noticed Sousuke working a lot later than usual, obsessing over any evidence given by the "serial arsonist", although what they were given was scant. Sousuke's eyes were more tired than usual, and it concerned Rin to see his friend so sucked into the case that he was having obvious emotional and physical responses.

"I don't know," Sousuke murmured, his voice low. "With the little evidence we have, we can't make a decision either way. It might be connected to the serial arsonist, but it might not."

"I'm not talking about evidence," Rin protested. "What do  _you_  think? Follow your instincts."

Sousuke's eyes met Rin's, desolate and uncertain. He blinked, and they suddenly became brighter and sharper. "It was by the serial arsonist," he said quietly, his voice and face showing his absolute conviction in his statement. But after he said it, his eyes again lost their spark and confidence, and he aimed them toward the window, away from Rin. "But I can't explain how I know that, and I can't prove it." He sighed again. "We're stuck. The damn arsonist has us running in circles, and they're laughing at us."

Rin shook his head. It was a never-ending battle-fire after fire, all the same, but never any evidence to prove it. The serial arson case itself wasn't particularly complicated in the least, considering arson was a fairly straightforward offense. They knew that there had been gasoline and matches involved, and someone at the scene to orchestrate them into the perfect fire. They knew from the very lack of evidence itself, that the culprit was careful to the point of being paranoid.

The investigation had tried everything, looking for fingerprints, footprints, dropped belongings or strands of hair, but the flames usually consumed and destroyed any evidence that might have been left behind in the first place. Rin doubted that they could have found anything even without the hinderance of the flames, seeing how precise and thoughtful the fires were. The one thing that the department had to go on was the culprit's consistency.

For the past few weeks, Sousuke had been working on a plan to pinpoint where the arsonist might strike next, mapping out abandoned buildings around Tokyo and organizing them by the probability of the arsonist using them in their next attack. Sousuke listed them by owner and date built, constructed a possible path of the arsonist in relation of the buildings to past sites, and even made a chart of the material makeup of their foundations. He had even been growing confident that they would be able to stake-out the culprit in the next week or so, but that was before the dock fire occurred and threw everything off.

"The buildings were starting to make sense," Sousuke muttered, as if echoing Rin's own thoughts, "but the dock? It seems too… rash-out of character. The arsonist likes pattern-routine-and the dock fire was completely out of left field."

"Sousuke," Rin murmured, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "you'll figure it out. Maybe they're getting scared and slipping up. Maybe it's the dock first, and next time it's a fingerprint."

Sousuke glanced at the hand on his shoulder for a second and promptly shrugged it off, standing up to look at all the paperwork and images sprawled over the table. Rin backed away, slightly hurt. He was not used to Sousuke being so cold. Even when the two argued, which was often, Sousuke was just aggressive. But this new passive-aggressiveness scared Rin. He could tell that Sousuke was beginning to think that this case was out of his depth and that he might not be able to solve it. Being the perfectionist and control-freak he was, Sousuke was slowly crumbling by witnessing his own uselessness.

Rin watched his friend's eyes manically search through the various files on the fires on the table, as if he could somehow get an answer by looking at them. Sousuke's arm reached out and picked up the image of the dock, charred and crumbly.

"Okay, serial arsonist." Sousuke's voice sounded it like was challenging the arsonist to a duel, completely forgetting about Rin being in the room. "You're crafty, I'll give you that. But do not underestimate me." His eyes glinted fiercely. "I will find out who you are, and you will be sent to jail."

He smiled, his grin sending cold shivers down Rin's spine.

* * *

Makoto was almost always smiling, so when his mother commented on how happy he had been lately, he was taken aback.

"You've noticed?" Makoto asked, eyes wide, to which his mother responded by chuckling and nodding her head.

"Of course," she replied matter-of-factly. "A mother always notices." She stepped forward and brushed the hair out of Makoto's eyes, resting her hand on his cheek. "You've been smiling with your eyes."

Makoto blushed as the corners of his mouth turned up in yet another smile, looking down at the floor. "You haven't smiled like that much since your father was diagnosed," his mother continued, a slight shadow falling over her face. She quickly blinked it off and regained her earlier warmth. "It's nice to see."

Letting his mother's hand drop from his face, Makoto turned back to the vegetables he had been chopping and dumping in a bowl. While he was certain many people would categorize his family as experts on brushing off unpleasant topics, Makoto didn't like to think of their actions that way. Instead, he thought of their persistent laughs and smiles as stemming from an underlying acceptance of the negativities that surrounded them. They didn't disregard dismal topics, but rather paid more attention to the brighter ones.

"So is it because of that boy you met at the fish market?" Mrs. Tachibana asked, suggestively raising an eyebrow. Makoto was glad that he was facing away from her when she asked, as her question immediately elicited another blush across his cheeks.

"Haru's just a friend," Makoto mumbled, all too aware of his unconvincing tone. "And he's twenty-four…" he added, recounting one of the things he had learned about Haru over their texts. He hoped that his mother wouldn't ask too many other questions about Haru, as not only did he not want to answer them, but he wouldn't have an answer to them anyways. Haru wasn't particularly expressive in his texts, and definitely not over the phone, so getting to know him wasn't the easiest. Makoto counted each little thing he learned as a small victory, as he had worked hard to get it. But with every small detail he managed to learn, it made him want to learn even more.

"I wasn't suggesting otherwise," his mother replied slyly, as if Makoto had fallen right into her trap. She giggled and took the bowl of chopped vegetables, now full, from Makoto and deposited the contents into a saucepan, hot and glistening with oil. She handed a wooden spoon to Makoto and gestured for him to stir as she called up to his siblings.

"Ren! Ran! It's time to set the table." A muffled response came and seconds later Makoto heard thudding down the staircase followed by his younger brother and sister tumbling into the kitchen.

"Hey! You stepped on my foot!" Ren exclaimed, elbowing his sister aside as he entered the kitchen.

"It's your fault you weren't watching where you were going," Ran responded, sticking out her lower lip in a pout. The Tachibana cat, disturbed by the disruption in the previously quiet kitchen, mewled in protest.

"See?" Ran continued, pointing at the cat. "Even Yato thinks you're clumsy."

"I'm not the one who stepped on somebody's foot!" Ren pointed out, crossing his arms.

"Now, now," Mrs. Tachibana said calmly, "let's not fight. Ren, you can start setting the table while Ran feeds the cat."

"But I wanted to-" the twins said simultaneously when their mother cut them off.

"No 'buts'. Get to work, and I'll let you have popsicles for dessert." Upon the suggestion of a later treat, the twins rushed off to complete their tasks, leaving Makoto and his mother laughing in the kitchen.

"Those vegetables look about done," Mrs. Tachibana observed before taking the saucepan from Makoto and spooning its contents into bowls which she and Makoto carried out to the table. Makoto knelt at the far end of the table, across from his mother, and waited patiently for Ren and Ran to finish their chores.

A few moments after sitting, Makoto felt a soft vibration in his pants pocket. He produced his phone from his pocket, smiling upon reading the message across the screen.

**From: Haru-chan**

**Dolphins.**

Makoto chuckled at the one-word response, recalling the question he had asked Haru earlier:  _What's your favorite animal?_ He wasn't surprised that dolphins were Haru's favorite animal, considering his love that bordered on obsession with anything having to do with water. Makoto was about to deposit his phone back in his pocket when an unexpected, second message came.

**From: Haru-chan**

**Do you like dolphins?**

Makoto hit "reply".

**To: Haru-chan**

**Yes, I love dolphins.**

Makoto had just hit "send" when his mother cleared her throat. Makoto quickly shoved his phone back into his pants and looked up bashfully. He knew his mother didn't like technology at the dinner table. It had never been much of an issue with Makoto himself, seeing as he usually didn't have many people to keep in touch with via text message, but ever since Ren and Ran had gotten smart phones for their thirteenth birthday, Mrs. Tachibana had laid down the law.

"Is that your new friend again?" Mrs. Tachibana asked, smirking. Makoto looked down at his lap, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Mako-chan has a new friend?" Ren and Ran asked simultaneously, re-entering the room with hands full of chopsticks and napkins. Makoto glanced desperately at his mother who simply crossed her arms, leaving Makoto to explain for himself.

"Um, yeah," he started, still rubbing circles on the back of his neck.

"Is he a firefighter too?" Ren asked eagerly.

Makoto laughed easing up a bit at the characteristic reply. "No, he works at the stand where I buy our mackerel. I only met him last week, though."

"Oh!" Ran interjected. "So is he a fisherman?"

"No," Makoto replied. "He just likes fish a lot." He laughed and reached a hand to ruffle Ran's hair, who shrank away, grumbling. "I think he likes fish even more than you guys."

"Are we going to meet him?" Ren asked excitedly, setting a pair of chopsticks down next to Makoto's plate.

"I don't know," Makoto said again, shaking his head. "Maybe you can meet him if you finish all your chores tonight without complaining," he teased, earning a laugh of approval from his mother.

"Now somebody who could get these two to do their chores without complaining is someone I'd like to meet," Mrs. Tachibana said, shaking a finger enthusiastically. Makoto laughed and the twins pouted before ending the conversation and digging into their dinner, the rest of his family thinking less and less of Haru with every bite.

* * *

It was Saturday morning. Haru sat on the couch, watching a television documentary, Rei and Nagisa to his sides. Nagisa was using Haru as a pillow, which he hated, but it happened so often that he resigned himself to his doom. He felt a buzz from his phone, and awkwardly wriggled his arm out from underneath Nagisa to pull it out. His stomach fluttered slightly as he saw the sender.

**From: Makoto Tachibana**

**Are you free at noon today?**

Haru bit his lip, a warmth rushing through him. He hadn't told his roommates about Makoto, and he was indefinitely postponing it. Haru didn't know if Makoto had any memory of him from the apartment fire, but he figured that seeing the two guys who were responsible for the fire and had argued drunkenly on the sidewalk outside might strike a chord.

"Makoto Tachibana?" Haru heard Rei read out, snapping him out of his reverie. He quickly locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket.

Nagisa sat up and looked at Haru. "Ooh, does Haru-chan have a girlfriend?" he asked teasingly, batting his eyelashes.

Haru balked. "It's not a girlfriend," he said, trying to avoid the subject.

"Come to think of it, you have been spending a lot more time on your phone," Rei said thoughtfully, as if calculating the hours of Haru's phone usage in his head. "I never really saw you use it that much before."

Haru unwittingly blushed in embarrassment as Nagisa began to chant, "Haru-chan has a girlfriend! Haru-chan has a girlfriend!"

"I told you, it's not a girlfriend," he protested. "It's a… friend. He just happens to have a girly name too."

Nagisa stopped chanting and turned to Haru with delight. "A fellow girly-named guy?" he exclaimed. "Well now you have to introduce him to us!"

Haru looked at him in horror, now wishing that he had left them believing it was a girlfriend.

"I agree with Nagisa," Rei said diplomatically. "I, for one, would like to see proof that you have friends other than Nagisa and myself."

Haru tried to say something in his defense, but nothing came to mind. It was true- he had no friends other than Rei and Nagisa, and hadn't really ever had friends other than them. Until Makoto…

"Text him back and tell him to come visit," Nagisa suggested. "I won't be able to sleep tonight without meeting your mysterious 'friend'."

"Yeah, I'm here all day," Rei added. "I don't want to be stuck with Nagisa the whole time."

"Hey!"

In defeat, Haru pulled back out his phone, opening up a new text message.

**To: Makoto Tachibana**

**I'm free.**

He sent it, and sighed, typing a new message.

**To: Makoto Tachibana**

**My roommates want to meet you. They have girly names too.**

To Haru, this seemed like a sufficient enough explanation. After only two minutes, his phone buzzed.

"That was quick!" Nagisa chimed.

Both Rei and Nagisa leaned over Haru to read Makoto's reply.  _Do they have no concept of privacy?_  Haru thought miserably.

**From: Makoto Tachibana**

**Hey, I'm always down for meeting fellow girly-named guys. Maybe we should start a club!**

The phone buzzed again.

**From: Makoto Tachibana**

**When and where is this meeting?**

"Here, in two hours," Nagisa declared.

Rei turned to Nagisa, a bemused expression on his face. "Isn't this Haru's friend?" he joked. "I don't think you're supposed to take control of the situation here, Nagisa."

"You know we can't leave this up to Haru alone," Nagisa quipped, winking playfully at Haru. "He has no concept of time or planning."

Haru typed out a message describing where the apartment was, making it as vague as possible, hoping that Makoto would get lost trying to find it.

But two hours passed and to Haru's dismay, Makoto did not get lost. The three of them were still on the couch, Haru and Nagisa still watching the television while Rei did some of his work, having complained about television hurting his brain, when the door buzzed.

Nagisa immediately sprang up, and ran to the door, hollering, "I'll get it!"

Haru sank back into the couch, hoping it would swallow him up so he wouldn't have to be present for this encounter.

Rei got up and headed after Nagisa. "I'll greet him too, otherwise he'll want to bolt after just meeting Nagisa."

Haru heard the door open. "Hello!" Makoto's voice hit Haru's ear, making him feel jittery all over.

"You're very tall," Nagisa said, bypassing any polite greeting.

Makoto's warm laugh filled the apartment. "Yeah, I've heard that before," he said, politely going along with Nagisa's complete lack of common decency. "I'm assuming you're one of Haru's roommates?" Despite the cloud of doom hanging over Haru, he cracked a small smile hearing Makoto say his name.

"Yes, please ignore him," Rei said, audibly shoving an indignant Nagisa out of the way. "I'm Rei, and this social travesty is Nagisa."

"It's nice to meet you both!" Makoto said, sounding amused with their antics. "I'm Makoto."

"We know," said Rei and Nagisa in unison.

"Oh?" Makoto had a of tone surprise. "D-Did Haru tell you about me, then?"

"Well..." Rei said slowly. "Not exactly."

Nagisa shushed Rei before he could continue. "Come in!" he said to Makoto welcomingly. "Haru-chan's lurking in here." His voice got sharper. "At least I say hello to guests, unlike Haru!"

Haru heard their footsteps get closer to the couch. "There he is!" Nagisa said triumphantly, dragging a bemused Makoto behind him.

"Haru!" Makoto said cheerfully, smiling warmly. Nagisa released the death grip on his arm, allowing Makoto to move closer to Haru. He sat down on the couch, maybe half a foot away from Haru. Their eyes met, and Haru's internal dungeon of terror began to lessen, and a cozy, soft feeling settled in his chest.

The moment was abruptly killed by Nagisa jumping in and sitting smack in between the two of them. He turned his back to Haru, looking at Makoto's face eagerly. Haru sighed, and tried to shift away from Nagisa, but Nagisa took up a ridiculously large amount of space on the couch for such a petite person.

"So, Makoto," Nagisa said, taking on a more serious tone. "How did you manage to meet Haru-chan?"

"Yes, I was wondering that too," Rei concurred. He sat down in the armchair opposite the couch. "Haru spends so much time avoiding the human masses that he has difficulty telling people his own name, let alone making friends."

Haru jaw twitched in irritation. A jovial laugh burst out of Makoto's mouth, and looked at Haru with a bemused expression, causing a flutter in Haru's stomach. "Well, we met at the fish market."

"I thought Kagari-san kept him permanently locked up in the back," Nagisa pondered, scratching his chin. "What a cosmic occurrence that you managed to see the elusive Haru!" Rei scoffed and rolled his eyes. Nagisa shifted his seat, now almost sitting on Makoto's lap. "So what do you do, Makoto?"

Nagisa began flinging question after question at the slightly uncomfortable Makoto, who despite having his entire life probed and dissected, somehow maintained an amiable facial expression. Haru was surprised at how willing Makoto was to share personal details to Rei and Nagisa. Although, Haru already knew most of what Makoto was saying, despite only having had interactions with him for such a short amount of time.

Nagisa suddenly asked, "What kind of shampoo do you use?"

"I did observe how shiny your hair was," Rei interjected, standing up from his chair. He strode over to Makoto, and reached out his hand to pluck a lock of hair. Rei leaned in and sniffed it analytically. "It has a refreshing scent as well. I'm picking up jojoba and shea… maybe a bit of argan oil?" He paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I'm estimating that it's either Pantene or Herbal Essences?"

Makoto looked to Haru for help, a strained smile on his face, but Haru had been enveloped by the couch. "Uh," he said awkwardly. "I don't really know, I just buy whatever."

"Wait, I want to smell Mako-chan's hair too!" Nagisa exclaimed, lurching forward lean on Makoto chest so he could reach his hair. The discomfort in Makoto's eyes pleaded to Haru,  _Help me_.

Makoto was too polite to announce that he had enough, but Haru's tolerance had reached its limit. Finally coming out from the cavern of the couch, he got up and turned to his roommates sternly. "That's enough," he said strongly.

Rei and Nagisa froze, recognizing the tone in Haru's in voice as the cue to quit it. Nagisa disappointedly slid off of Makoto, who breathed a sigh of relief. His jade eyes silently thanked Haru's blue ones.

Makoto coughed and smiled again. "So," he said, attempting to alleviate the awkward tension. "I stopped by the market on the way here and bought some food for lunch, if you guys are interested."

The mood in the room immediately lightened. "That was very considerate of you," Rei said, pushing up his glasses.

Makoto began rustling through the bags of food. "Did you get-" Haru began.

"Yes, I got mackerel, Haru," Makoto answered, promptly handing Haru the package of mackerel.

Rei and Nagisa looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "How do you know so much about Haru-chan already?" Nagisa complained, pouting. "It took two years for him to say anything to me other than 'Don't call me -chan'."

Makoto looked surprised. "Oh, I didn't realize…" He turned his head slightly, looking at Haru from the side of his eye. There was an indefinable look in his eyes that seared into Haru, making his pulse quicken. After a pause, Haru quickly turned and walked to the kitchen, opening up the package of mackerel.

The four of them set up a pick-and-choose kind of meal, growing closer and less awkward as they ate. The conversation didn't falter, mostly thanks to Nagisa. Haru noticed Makoto glancing at him from time to time, and purposely dipped his head, focusing on his eyes on his food so Makoto wouldn't see his blush.

After they finished eating, Haru picked up his dish and brought it to the sink. He turned the faucet on and began washing the dish out, when he felt someone come up behind him.

"I can get that for you," Makoto said, gently wrapping his hand around the dish, his fingers brushing up against Haru's.

Haru blinked in surprise. "Are you sure?" he asked, his heart thumping wildly.

"Yeah, it's just a dish," Makoto said lightly, their hands still touching.

Haru paused for a moment, then let his hand drop. He turned and found himself facing Makoto's chest. He stared for a moment at the muscular pecs, visible through a dark green t-shirt, his mind going blank. After a moment he realized what he was doing and blushed, awkwardly wriggling out from in front of Makoto.

After finishing the dishes, Makoto dried his hands with a wash cloth and walked to where Haru had sat down. He leaned in toward Haru. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he murmured, out of earshot of Rei and Nagisa. Haru whipped his head toward the taller man. Their faces were close enough that Haru could see a couple of freckles on the bridge of Makoto's nose. He could feel a slight huff on his face from Makoto's breath. Eyes wide, he gave a quick nod.

The two of them somehow managed to vacate the apartment without Rei or Nagisa noticing. It was a pleasant day outside, warm and sunny. A slight breeze ruffled Makoto's hair, who closed his eyes and sighed contently, tilting his face toward the sun. Haru watched him, admiring how peaceful and beautiful he looked in the sunlight.

 _Beautiful?_  Haru jolted himself out of his thoughts.  _Did I just call him beautiful?_

Makoto opened his eyes and turned his face towards Haru. His gem-like eyes almost looked like they contained the sun itself. They grew warmer as he smiled, burning into Haru's skull. Haru suddenly felt Makoto's hand brush up against his again, but this time, he grabbed Haru's hand and gently squeezed it. The recurring blush again made an appearance on Haru's face, but this time he didn't look away. He squeezed back.

"Come on, let's go," Makoto said, a playful smile on his face. He led Haru down the street, hand-in-hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving into fluff territory in 5, 4, 3, 2... Also, next chapter... From the really shitty stuffing fluff you get in hotel pillows to full-on, fluffy sock, down pillow, pillow pet fluff. 
> 
> And I'm very quickly growing to like this site. I was unsure at first (an avid fanfiction.net-er), but I was needing a new source of Makoharu in my life. I think I (and MufasasPride) have bled fanfiction.net dry.


	5. Dolphins and Daydreams

The fire station had been particularly quiet for the past few days, only receiving a few calls every now and then for a kitchen disaster or a candle knocked off a table. Makoto occasionally wondered how sitting around at the station all day was doing any good, but he couldn't complain. With less emergencies came more free time to text Haru, whose messages were growing slightly less erratic and a bit more descriptive.

**To: Haru-chan**

**Okay, I'll put it on my queue for later. (:**

Where a week ago, a response would have taken hours to come, Haru replied in a mere matter of minutes.

**From: Haru-chan**

**You said you liked the one about bottlenose dolphins, so I thought you might like this one as well.**

Makoto laughed as he typed his reply.

**To: Haru-chan**

**I did like the bottlenose documentary! I look forward to learning about the blue dolphin.**

Makoto pressed send, but shortly after, he had another thought.

**To: Haru-chan**

**Actually, I get off work at 5 tonight, and I was wondering if maybe you'd like to watch it together?**

This time, the reply didn't come quite as quickly, but soon enough:

**From: Haru-chan**

**Yes, Rei and Nagisa are going to see a movie tonight, so we can use the living room TV. You can come over right after your shift. I'll cook.**

Makoto smiled at the response. It was one of the longest texts he had received from Haru yet, and it was an invitation to spend more time together. He hadn't seen Haru since his trip to the apartment just over a week ago, and was eager to catch up in person. Makoto had spent the majority of his free time over those past four days reliving he and Haru's walk by the bay.

" _Do you like the water?" Makoto asked, watching Haru look out over the pier into the bay. His eyes looked full, and seemed to hum with energy as they took in the water before them. Makoto already knew what Haru's response would be, but he was afraid that if he didn't ask, Haru would never realize that he understood in the first place._

" _Yes," Haru replied simply, hair swaying across his features as it was ruffled by the light breeze. "But you can't really swim in the bay."_

_Makoto laughed airily, giving Haru's hand a squeeze. Haru's face was so serious as he spoke, as if he were breaking the news of a loved one's death by declaring the Tokyo Bay to be "unswimmable"._

" _Only you would think of swimming in it," Makoto chuckled. Haru turned his face away and didn't reply. After a few moments of walking in silence, Makoto added, "I've never been brave enough to swim in anything but a pool. Ever since I was really young, something about a virtually bottomless pit of water has scared me a bit. I guess it's just the sense of being so small in something so huge, never quite knowing what you're swimming with."_

_Haru seemed to consider the statement for a while before finally turning his head to look Makoto directly in the eyes. Makoto's head reeled a bit at the intense and unexpected connection._

" _You can learn," Haru told him, a sense of urgency in his voice. "There are many beautiful things in the water. You shouldn't be afraid."_

That statement had somehow led to Makoto watching documentaries on different types of marine life in his free time since then, reporting back to Haru with his thoughts on the various films. Ren and Ran had tried to watch with Makoto, but after the first hour or so following a baby sea turtle on its journey from hatching to the sea and back again, they had decided they had had enough nature for one night.

**To: Haru-chan**

**I'll see you soon!**

Alerted by some chatter outside the break-room, Makoto glanced up from his phone. Soon, the noise-makers entered the room, seemingly unaware of Makoto's presence.

"You said that last time!" a woman with velvety-red hair accused, jabbing a familiar figure in the chest. "You always say you'll come home and have dinner, but it's always, 'I have a case' or 'Sousuke's sick' or 'I forgot I had an appointment'. How stupid do you think I am?"

"It's not my fault that I actually have a  _job_ with  _work_ to do!" The second speaker defended, baring his unsettling teeth. It was the police officer, Matsuoka.

"I'm a  _lawyer_!" the woman huffed. "I just...don't have many clients yet." She crossed her arms and looked down at her feet, evidently insecure about the state of her work. "But you still need to stop shoving your family aside because you're some big-shot police officer with an investigator boyfriend!"

"For the last time, Gou-Sousuke is  _not_ my boyfriend!"

"I've seen that man purse of his. You're not fooling anybody." The woman named Gou stuck out her bottom lip and glared at Matsuoka, assuming herself victorious. The two stared at each other in tense silence for a few moments before realizing they weren't alone. They then directed their fiery gazes at Makoto, who shifted uncomfortably beneath them.

"I-I can leave," Makoto said quickly, jumping up from the couch. In his hurry, he dropped his phone on the floor, it landing face up and flashing a bright screen bearing Haru's contact picture. When Makoto paused, frozen by the tangible tension around him, Gou swooped down and snatched up the phone. She looked as if she was about to hand it back to Makoto, but the image on the screen pulled her in, causing her hand to tighten around it.

"Wh-Who is  _that_?" Gou asked, still staring at the phone screen. Matsuoka glanced over at the picture, then at his sister's expression, before shoving his hands into his pockets and rolling his eyes.

"Here we go…" Matsuoka mumbled, sucking in his breath.

"Um, can I-" Makoto started, reaching for the phone.

"Haru-chan!" Gou suddenly exclaimed, reading the name at the top of the screen. "But he's a he, not a she… I guess he does have a girly name, but mine's boyish so that doesn't matter."

"I don't really think you should-" Makoto was growing a bit desperate. He had no reason to worry about a police officer and a lawyer checking his phone, but he didn't want to be at fault for compromising Haru's privacy.

"Gou, give him his phone back," Matsuoka ordered irritatedly, clearly used to dealing with his sister's antics.

"His eyes!" Gou continued, deaf to the objections around her. She pinched the touch screen of the phone, using it to zoom in on one of Haru's enrapturing eyes. "They're so blue and so deep-like the ocean!"

"Gou, enough," Matsuoka said, voice stern as he tore the phone out of her grasp and handed it to Makoto. "Sorry about that," he added aside to Makoto. "She has a habit of latching onto cute-I mean, what, to her, is attractive, in men…" Matsuoka trailed off, grumbling and turned back to his sister. "Okay, I'll be home for dinner tonight, but dinner only."

With Matsuoka's statement, Gou seemed to forget what had transpired only moments before. "Yay!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her brother, who promptly shook her off. "And you promise not to bring your  _not_ boyfriend this time, right?" She batted her eyelashes which earned her another teeth-baring grimace. Makoto winced.

"For the last time…" Matsuoka growled, voice laced with blatant irritation as he clenched a fist. He then glanced over at Makoto and decided not to finish his sentence. He instead turned and exited the room, Gou following at his heels.

Makoto was once again alone in the room, standing awkwardly and clutching his phone. He sighed a bit and relaxed, holding up his screen that still bore the image of Haru's zoomed-in eye. Makoto pinched the screen and zoomed out, taking in the picture as a whole. He immediately smiled at the sight of Haru's dark, swept hair and sparkling eyes, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he subtly bit his lip. Makoto remembered taking the picture on their walk, holding up his phone in the bright, warm light of the setting sun as he positioned Haru in front of the water.

" _Do I have to smile?" Haru asked, looking down at the ground. It had taken Makoto a significant amount of reasoning and prodding to even get Haru to agree to the picture in the first place, so he wasn't about to push him further._

" _No," Makoto said reassuringly, releasing Haru's hand and stepping back to open his phone camera. "You don't have to smile if you don't want to."_

_After a few moments of loading, an image of Haru popped up on Makoto's screen, and he tapped the pixels of Haru's face to focus. He was about to take the photo when Haru turned his head away, glancing at the bay. Makoto tilted his head, laughing, before he got an idea._

" _Actually, Haru, maybe if you stood over here, it would be better," Makoto suggested, gesturing to a spot further back from the water. "That way, you can look at the water while I take the picture." Makoto took a hold of the nonresponsive Haru's arm and rotated so they switched spots. This time, when Makoto pulled up the camera, Haru's eyes held a new depth to them. Where Haru looked nice in the first picture, he looked radiant in the second, reflecting the beauty of the water around him in his face. The corner of his mouth seemed to be fighting to turn up in a smile, which he naturally resisted. Makoto hit the capture icon and saved it to Haru's contact, smiling at the result._

" _Is it okay?" Haru asked, his face resuming its previous composure of impassiveness. Makoto laughed._

" _It's perfect," Makoto replied, taking Haru's hand again and squeezing it._

" _Could I, maybe…" Haru seemed to be struggling with the words. "Could I take a picture of you?"_

_Makoto agreed, of course, just waiting for Haru to ready his own phone. Makoto let Haru position him where he wanted, right in front of the breaking waves, and didn't even have to pose as Haru pressed capture-he was already smiling as brightly as he could._

Reclaiming his spot on the worn break-room couch, Makoto took a deep breath and sighed. He just had to make it through two more hours.

* * *

 

Haru sat on his bed, reading a book on sea animals. Often Rei called him "a man of limited interest", but Haru didn't really consider water and the things that resided in it to be of limiting. Water was the least restricting thing in his life, and there was no end to the amount of things that could be learned about it.

He was flipping a page when he felt his phone buzz.

**From: Makoto Tachibana**

**I just left the station. I'm on my way :)**

Haru read the message twice before locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket. After memorizing the page number he was at, he stood up and walked over to his backpack, which was resting against the wall. He pulled the zipper and was about to place the book inside when something caught his eye. He paused, his hands hovering over the bag. Inside was a can of gasoline and two boxes of matches, unused since the dock fire, glaring at him tauntingly. He quickly zipped up the backpack and moved it to the back of his closet, placing the sea animal book next to his bed instead.

Haru shook his head slightly, reminding himself that Makoto would be there in less than twenty minutes. He walked out of his room, following down the hallway and stopping once he was in the dining room. Standing with his hands on his hips, he glanced around the apartment. Rei's stacks of research for his PhD. lay in neat, organized sections on the kitchen table, and Nagisa's food wrappers and laundry were in various piles on the couch and the floor.  _Should I clean up?_  he wondered, mulling over the chaos.

The last time Haru had attempted moving Rei's research he was almost murdered, so he didn't dare touch it, and instead got to work cleaning up Nagisa's mess. He kneeled down and picked up a half eaten apple by its stem, grimacing. He didn't really understand sloppiness, as he didn't have many material possessions to begin with, and always made sure to clean up whatever little he left behind. He liked his things to be neat and organized.

After chucking the apple in the trash, Haru cautiously began scraping up various wrappers and food packages, wary of roaches that might be hidden underneath. He had just picked a neglected can of soda when he heard the door buzzer go off. An immediate rush of jitters hit him, and he shook his head, trying to dismiss the reaction. He quickly tossed the soda can in the trash and washed his hands in the sink, scraping the dirty feeling from his fingers.

After drying off his hands, Haru walked to the door, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. He took a deep breath in before opening it, revealing Makoto on the other side, holding a tupperware container of muffins. Haru's pulse shot up slightly. "Hey Haru!" Makoto said brightly, smiling. He looked at Haru kindly, his green eyes warm and friendly. He gestured towards the tupperware container. "These banana-nut muffins were left over in the break room, so I brought them for us."

"Thanks," Haru said, taking them from Makoto's hands and bringing them into the apartment. Makoto followed behind, shutting the door. Haru set the muffins on the kitchen counter and walked to the hook where his apron resided, reaching up to take it down and putting it on.

He heard Makoto's light laugh from behind him. "That's a nice apron, Haru-chan," he offered.

"Don't call me -chan," Haru immediately replied, Makoto chuckling in response. Haru, still grumbling slightly, began pulling out the fish and the other materials out of the refrigerator and cupboards to make dinner. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Makoto pull out the chair to the kitchen island and sit in it. "So, um… did you have a good day?" Haru asked quietly, beginning to chop vegetables with a knife.

"Oh!" Makoto chirped, sounding surprised at Haru's question. "Um, yeah, it was pretty good. Nothing much happened, I guess." He laughed nervously. "How about you?"

"I just sat around here all day," Haru responded. He didn't know what else to say, so he continued chopping. A small silence filled the room, the only noise being the thwack of Haru's knife.

"Oh, I had a weird moment today with my boss, Chief Sasabe!" Makoto quickly blurted, breaking the quietness. "He told me he had a date with a um… nice looking woman this evening." He coughed awkwardly, leading Haru to believe that the chief had used a different phrase to describe his date that Makoto was too polite to use. "So he dragged me to his office so he could show me different outfits he was considering. I didn't really know what to say about any of the outfits and didn't really give any strong criticism or opinions so he tried on all of them and uh… modeled them for me." He bit his lip and furrowed his brow, a half concerned, half bemused expression on his face. "He owns a lot of Hawaiian prints and bermuda shorts…"

Haru huffed, a light smile on his face, which was his equivalent of a chuckle. The mood in the room became more comfortable, and conversation began to flow easily from Makoto, with the occasional comment from Haru. Eventually the meal finished cooking, and they ate at the kitchen island, as Rei's research was on the dining table.

"That was actually really good, Haru," Makoto said contently after the meal. "You're a great cook."

Haru bent his head down and picked up their dishes, pleased with the compliment. After placing them in the sink, he turned back to Makoto. "Do you want to watch the documentary now?"

Makoto nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, sure!"

Haru walked to the television and pulled up the documentary, and then sat on the couch, remote in hand. Makoto came and sat down next to him, his legs brushing up against Haru's. Usually when presented with physical contact, Haru would always pull away from someone, but when the fabric of Makoto's jeans brushed against the side of Haru's thigh as he sat down, he did not recoil. After an inadvertent glance at Makoto's lap, Haru looked up to the television, pointing the remote at the screen and pressing play.

Haru had already seen the blue dolphin documentary twice, so he didn't really pay attention, and instead watched Makoto out of the corner of his eye throughout the film. He trailed the bridge of his nose, lightly dusted with freckles, then moved to his eyes, which reflected the blue light from the television. A couple of times, Makoto flicked his gaze away from the screen, making Haru quickly return his focus to the documentary, not wanting to be caught staring. Every time he looked back at Makoto, though, there was a hint of a bemused smile on his lips. Midway through, Makoto surreptitiously slid his hand over to Haru's and took it, giving it a squeeze, still focused on the documentary.

Near the end of the documentary was a bit on predators of dolphins in the wild, and showed footage of a shark following after a pod of dolphins in the Pacific Ocean. From his sideways view, Haru watched as Makoto's expression subtly shifted from enjoyment to apprehension as the shark drew nearer to a lagging dolphin in the pod. The music in the film began to build up as the shark swam after oblivious dolphin, the grainy camera slowly zooming in on the shark and dolphin. Makoto's face grew even more apprehensive and even perhaps a bit fearful, his eyes focused unblinking on the screen. The music continued to build even more until its climax and the shark sharply lunged to attack the dolphin. But that wasn't what surprised Haru. What surprised him was the strangled yelp Makoto let out beside him and the sudden feeling of arms wrapped tightly around him.

Jolting in shock, Haru whipped his head to see Makoto clutching him desperately, his face buried in the fabric of Haru's shirt. Confused and alarmed, he frowned, his pulse quickening at the sudden touch. "Makoto?" he asked, puzzled.

Makoto didn't appear to hear him and didn't respond, instead squeezing Haru tighter, his torso pressed up against him. Haru tried to form more words but his mind went completely blank, now muddled with the feeling of Makoto holding him so intensely. He looked down at him, his eyes scrunched shut and his hair sticking out messily, a little bit of fear on his face. Haru blinked. He felt a woozy jitteriness, struggling to draw breaths in as he felt the heat from Makoto's arms and body against him. Other than Nagisa, no one ever really hugged him, but he couldn't deny that it felt nice having Makoto hold him…

Makoto's eyes opened and he blinked rapidly, seeming to realize what he was doing. He quickly lifted his head out from Haru's shirt and sheepishly avoided Haru's eyes, his arms still holding him, albeit less tightly. "S-Sorry," he mumbled, looking embarrassed. "Um… I get scared really easily…"

"Oh," Haru replied, unsure of how to respond. He had always been terrible at comforting people, and he hadn't really had much opportunity to either. But this was Makoto, so he figured that he should at least try something. Without really thinking about it, he pulled his arm out of Makoto's hold and tentatively gave Makoto's shoulder a small pat. "Um… It's okay." Makoto blinked and looked at him, his eyebrows raised slightly. After a pause, Haru flicked his gaze to the television and gestured to the pod of dolphins quickly fleeing from the shark. "See, the dolphin is fine."

He turned back to look at Makoto, but a shadow had passed over his eyes and was obstructing his view. Realizing that it was because of Makoto's face, Haru went to say something in confusion, but he found that he couldn't, because a pair of lips were suddenly on his mouth. Haru's eyes widened and he inhaled sharply. His mind was bleached of any previous thoughts as comprehension slowly trickled through, it dawning upon him that they were Makoto's lips. On his. Haru sat there in abject shock, his body frozen like a stone gargoyle, not even reacting or flinching to Makoto's kiss. Tingles of electricity travelled down Haru's spine as he took into notice the soft tentativeness of Makoto's lips. Makoto had a warm, familiar taste, one that Haru took a few moments to recognize.  _Is that… cinnamon?_

But as soon as he had placed it, the taste of cinnamon was torn away as Makoto broke the kiss. Haru's eyes snapped open to look at him, meeting wide eyes and flushed cheeks, visible even with the shadows darkening Haru's view. Makoto blinked rapidly, his mouth forming a small 'o' as embarrassment filled his face. Haru took in a few fast, shaky breaths, sure that he too was blushing and looking just as awkward. He couldn't even hear the television anymore, his heart was thumping too wildly in his chest, painfully reverberating throughout his entire body. His lips tingled from where Makoto had just been seconds before.

Makoto opened his mouth wider as if to say something, but no sound came out and he instead jammed it shut and blushed deeper. He glanced downwards and realized that he was still holding Haru, quickly dropping his arms. He nervously avoided Haru's gaze and turned back to the documentary, this time not taking Haru's hand in his own. Haru stared at him, wanting him to say something but at the same time hoping he wouldn't. Whether luckily or unluckily, Makoto chose the first option and pretended to be absorbed in the documentary. Slowly, Haru shifted back down to face the screen as he, too, pretended to be interested in the film.

Haru supposed it was a good thing that he had already seen the film multiple times, because it was now impossible to focus on it. The kiss replayed non-stop in his head, each time feeling less and less like it had actually happened and he was nearly convinced that it was a figment of his imagination. But from Makoto's pointed distance, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on his thigh, and the residual tingling and faint taste of cinnamon on his lips, Haru knew it had been real. Which made him wonder… what had made Makoto kiss him? Had it been an accident? Did Makoto want to kiss him? Biting the inside of his mouth, he felt his stomach twisting into painful knots as he fretted..

The end of the documentary of the documentary was coming, and Haru was absolutely dreading it, because then one of them would have to say something. He couldn't even look at Makoto without an immediate rush of blood to his cheeks in mortification, quickly averting his eyes like he was looking at some blinding laser. Makoto stayed completely still, his body uncharacteristically stiff and upright, and Haru could feel the tension radiating from his broad shoulders. Haru, too, was frozen, not wanting to draw attention to himself by even the smallest thing, like scratching his nose.

Far too quickly, the film ended, Haru's nervousness and discomfort spiking painfully. He and Makoto sat in awkward silence for a solid minute through the credits, both drawing quiet, bated breaths, before he sprang off of the couch, unable to sit there any longer. He quickly strode to the television, avoiding looking Makoto's way, and busied himself with stopping the film and putting it away. As he worked with shaky hands, he felt the heat of Makoto's gaze on his back, glad that he was facing away when his face burned red. After a moment of Haru fiddling with the television, there was a slight rustling noise from the couch, Haru figuring that it was Makoto standing up.

"Um," Makoto's voice timidly came from behind him. "T-That was a good film," he offered weakly, his usual strategy of picking up from an awkward moment failing.

Haru finished dealing with the television and slowly turned to cast a glance at Makoto through the onyx of his bangs. Makoto was avoiding Haru's gaze, instead staring at the ground, his hands anxiously jammed into the pockets of his jeans. He looked just as uncomfortable and conflicted as Haru felt, and it was unusual for him to be the one to avoiding eye contact and not the other way around. Haru continued to watch Makoto out of the corner of his eye, waiting for him to say something.

Makoto shuffled his feet, still looking at the carpet. "Um," he said again, his voice soft and shy, an abashed expression on his face. "S-Sorry… about… that…" he mumbled, almost inaudibly.

Haru blinked and turned his head to face Makoto more squarely. He tried to think of something to say, but his mind was completely empty. He just stood there like an idiot, wishing he had the words to make the situation better-wishing he could be more like Makoto.

But apparently, Makoto was struggling even more than him at the moment. "I should have asked first," he said to the floor. He drew in a rattly breath, furrowing his brows concernedly. "We can just forget that I did that and-"

"No," Haru said firmly, cutting off Makoto's spluttering. The tone in his voice made Makoto's head snap up, his mouth open in surprise. His emerald eyes watched Haru apprehensively as he formulated his next sentence. "I... didn't mind."

Makoto's eyes widened, sparking in shock, his eyebrows raising beneath his scruffy bangs. The pink dust reappeared on his cheeks, his mouth still gaping as he stared at Haru. "Oh," he breathed. His lips twitched, his expression subtly shifting from embarrassed to cautiously hopeful. "H-Haru?" he asked, his voice almost in a whisper. He tentatively looked into Haru's eyes, making Haru's pulse thump loudly in his ears. He drew in a slow breath, looking like he was drawing up his courage. "C-Can I kiss you again?"

A jolt went through Haru's body, his eyes widening as he gazed at Makoto. He blinked and gave a small nod, not trusting his voice enough to be able to speak. Makoto immediately brightened, his cheeks flushing as he straightened his spine. After a moment, he took a small step forward, pausing to glance at Haru, as if asking for permission to approach. His blush deepened as Haru met his gaze, glancing down at his hands as he took another tentative step towards him. Haru swallowed, his heart beating quicker as Makoto drew nearer.

Before he knew it, Haru found himself a foot away from Makoto's muscular chest, which he stared at dizzily, swallowing nervously. He forced himself to look up and meet Makoto's gaze, his sightline slowly traveling up Makoto's neck, chin, lips, and nose until blue met green. Although he still looked a bit flustered, Makoto did not tear away from Haru's eye contact this time. Instead he blinked and lifted the ends of his lips into a small smile, his emerald eyes shining brightly despite the darkness of the room. Haru's cheeks burned hotly as he gazed at the taller man, his chest tight.

After a moment, Makoto inhaled and straightened up. "Um," he mumbled, dipping his head and beginning to slowly lean in, making Haru's breaths grow shorter and sharper with anticipation. He glanced down at Makoto's lips, full and pink, parted slightly, before bringing his eyes back to Makoto's. As Makoto bent closer to him, Haru could feel his breath on his face, a light tickling sensation on his cheeks. Makoto paused for a moment just inches away from Haru's face, the little freckles on his nose and the fullness of his eyelashes clearly visible to Haru. Makoto let out a small puff of air, Haru's bangs shifting slightly in response, before their noses crossed and Haru lifted his chin to meet him.

Their lips met, softly and almost hesitantly, the taste of cinnamon reappearing in Haru's mouth. Haru's senses lit up, and he exhaled contentedly and closed his eyes, pressing himself into Makoto a little more strongly. Makoto eagerly pressed back, his shyness and tentativeness slowly dissipating. He shifted closer, the heat from his body radiating towards Haru, comforting and warm. A hand drew up to gently cup the back of Haru's neck, lightly fingering through the ends of Haru's hair, tickling him in a strangely pleasant way.

Far too quickly, Makoto drew away with a deep breath, his lips parted and his eyes closed, a peaceful look on his face. He slowly opened his eyes to focus on Haru, moving his hand on the back of Haru's neck shifted to caress the side of Haru's face, gently gripping his jaw for stability. "I really like you, Haru-chan," he murmured. Haru's eyes widened, not even hearing or caring about the -chan placed at the end of his name as he looked up at Makoto. Makoto tilted his head, gazing at him affectionately, slowly stroking his flushed cheek with his thumb. Haru tried to find the words to express that he felt the same way, but his throat was so tight he couldn't form a syllable.

Luckily, he didn't need to, because the hand on his cheek tightened and Makoto pulled in for another kiss. Their lips met again, with more confidence and ease this time, Makoto placing his other hand to the side of Haru's face. The cinnamon from Makoto's lips seared into Haru's, little pleasant tingles spreading. Feeling himself wanting more, Haru parted his lips as an invitation against Makoto's politely closed mouth. After a moment, Makoto opened his lips as well and cautiously slipped his tongue into Haru's mouth, as if checking if everything was okay, before softly tracing the connection of their mouths. He ventured a little further once he was sure Haru was alright, and Haru responded to his actions swiftly, telling Makoto that he was more than fine with everything he was doing and that he needn't be so polite and careful.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the two broke apart, gratefully taking in deep breaths, their lips pink and eyes hazy. Makoto reached up to tenderly brush a strand of hair out of Haru's eyes, his hand lingering a moment before dropping to his side. They stood in silence for a couple of breaths, before Haru inhaled sharply and took a step forward, flinging his arms around Makoto's torso and burying his face in the clean scent of his shirt. "Haru," Makoto breathed, his voice resonating through Haru's connection to his chest. Haru turned his head to the side, his ear pressed up against his collarbone, scrunching his eyes shut. He felt Makoto's chest concave as he exhaled, his heart beat pulsing in his ear. Makoto's arms gently draped around his back, giving him a squeeze before he placed a small kiss to Haru's head, nuzzling into his straight black hair. Haru tightened his embrace, not wanting to let go.

They stood there for several moments, before Makoto dropped his arms and took a step back. Haru hid the frown that tried to spread over his face as his heat source was torn away from him. Makoto yawned, his nose scrunching up, and sleepily rubbed his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled blearily, opening his eyes and refocusing them on Haru. "I kind of have an early start tomorrow."

"Oh," Haru replied, a tad disappointed, wanting to crawl back into Makoto's arms. "Okay."

Makoto sighed. "I should probably go home," he said softly, also looking a bit disappointed at having to leave.

Haru nodded. "Do you want me to walk you home?" he asked, surprising himself.

"Oh," Makoto breathed, a small catch in his voice. He quickly shook his head. "No, I'm fine." He smiled as if to cover up the strange hitch in his words. "Thanks anyways."

He strode back to the kitchen island, picking up his jacket from where it was draped over the chair and slipping his arms through the sleeves to put it on. After slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he turned back to face Haru. "Thanks for tonight, Haru," he said gratefully, his eyes lighting up. He turned to glance at the door. "Well…" he said reluctantly, before looking back at Haru. "Goodnight, Haru-chan."

Makoto had only taken a few steps before Haru called out, "Wait." He turned back, his eyebrows raised as he watched Haru walk towards him. Haru stepped into him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek, before pulling away to look up at him. "Goodnight, Makoto," Haru murmured.

Makoto exhaled and smiled, pausing a moment before turning to grip the door handle and open the door. He took several steps out into the hallway before looking back over his shoulder and holding up his hand to give a small wave. Haru awkwardly brought up his own hand, standing in the middle of the doorway as he watched Makoto's broad back turn away and disappear as he descended down the stairs.

Haru stepped back and shut the door, turning around to press his back to it. He sighed and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. He felt strange, an emotion that he had never experienced in his twenty-four years of life rushing through him in a dizzying overload. For the first time ever, really, he was completely, unabashedly happy.

A second later he twitched, recognizing another component to the strange feeling that had settled over him. He pushed off the door and walked to his room, shaking his head despite the faint smile on his face.

_I forgot to tell him to drop the -chan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you're following this fic, or have seen if before, we're toying with the description a bit. This story is fairly long already, and we have the majority of the plot mapped out, so it's striking a balance of summary without giving too much away, but we'll see. It may change again in the future. Oh, and by long, I mean 100k+ long. As in, we haven't reached halfway yet, and it's already at 100k. So yeah, just a heads up. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading ^_^


	6. Labels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sourin bowls, Haru is clueless, and Reigisa makes everyone uncomfortable

 

Rin's eye was twitching in aggravation, his hand pressed against his forehead. He was currently trapped in his worst nightmare: a bowling alley. Gou, being the ever doting and controlling sister, had forced him to go to the alley with her, because he "didn't have enough fun" in his life. She threatened to tell their mom that he was dating Sousuke, which he  _wasn't_ , so he allowed himself to be dragged to the closest rendition of hell on earth he could muster.

He sat at a table, alone, waiting for Gou to arrive. She was already fifteen minutes late, and he was about to just give up and leave when he noticed a new person entering the alley. The flames of hell surrounding him burned a little stronger when he realized the person was Sousuke.

"Sousuke?" Rin asked aloud, though mostly to himself. What was Sousuke doing at a  _bowling alley_? As far as Rin knew, Sousuke didn't have a manipulative, self-serving younger sister to force him into such things, so was Sousuke just there for...fun? Rin shook his head and stood up to walk over to his friend. When Sousuke noticed Rin approaching, he glanced around him like a trapped animal.

"Sousuke?" Rin asked again, though this time his question was directed at an actual person. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, well," Sousuke started, regaining a bit of his usual coolness and composure, "I could ask the same of you."

"Gou's dragged me here because if I didn't 'have some more fun in my life' she would tell our mom that I-" Rin stopped himself, immediately biting down on his tongue in haste, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. He silently cursed his pointy teeth.

"Gou?" Sousuke blurted, losing his coolness for a fraction of a second before quickly returning his eyes to their natural frozen judgment. Earlier that day, he had received an unexpected call from none other than Gou, asking him to join her at the bowling alley that night. Although unsure of whether she intended it as a date or not (due to her previous track record with men), Sousuke thought it might be a good opportunity to become more familiar with her on a professional level, because he knew almost all of the lawyers of Tokyo personally, as it helped to know their styles for legal cases. He reluctantly agreed, and had planned to avoid mentioning it to Rin.

"Yeah, Gou." Rin narrowed his eyes at Sousuke-something about his uncharacteristic jumpiness was bothering him. "So, now that you've effectively deflected my earlier question, do you want to explain what you're doing at a bowling alley? Did you smell smoke or something? Was there some interesting murder case down the block?" Rin crossed his arms.

Sousuke racked furiously through his mind for a quick excuse. He knew that Rin was very protective over Gou, and had nearly murdered potential suitors multiple times in the past. Even as his best friend, he didn't think that Rin would be able to restrain himself if he knew that Sousuke had been in contact with his little sister.  _That's a murder case that I wouldn't get to investigate_ , he thought darkly. "Uh…" He helplessly glanced around him, reaching up his hand to rub his shoulder. "I, uh… I... like bowling..." he mumbled unconvincingly.

"What?!" Rin gasped, jaw dropping. Sousuke? Liked...bowling? The flames of hell lapped at Rin's skin, slowly consuming him. "Well, I, uh…" Rin scratched his head, trying to summon the will to not ruthlessly tear Sousuke apart or commit suicide. He didn't want to live in a world where someone like Sousuke bowled for fun in his free time. "That's, um…" Rin grimaced and shut his eyes, giving up on articulating a decently polite response.

Sousuke awkwardly let out a barking cough. "So, um…" he muttered, trying to shove the memory of the past two minutes into a deep, deep chasm. At this point, there was no further low he could reach, so he attempted to straighten up and pretend he had any dignity remaining. "Since we're both here, do you want to play?" he asked monotonously, his voice devoid of any spark of life.

_Since we're both here, do you want to play?_ Rin was surely a pile of ashes lying on the floor of Satan's bedroom if Sousuke was asking him to bowl. He glanced down at the two passes in his hand, one for him and one for his eternally late sister. It was already twenty-five minutes past their time, so there was probably no remaining chance that Gou would show up. Rin threw up his hands. "What the hell," he grumbled, handing his extra pass to Sousuke. "You will never utter a  _word_ of this to the guys at the station if you value your life."

Despite the crushing existentialism rushing through his brain, Sousuke cracked a smile at Rin's threat.  _At least I know he won't be bringing this up to anyone I know,_  Sousuke consoled himself. They went up to the counter and handed in their tickets, carefully avoiding eye contact with the teller behind the desk.

"Have a nice time on your date!" the teller said perkily, handing back their ticket stubs.

Rin heatedly snatched the stubs from the teller's hands and stormed further into the alley, not bothering to wait for Sousuke.

After a few rounds of bowling in the farthest lane from the windows in the alley, Rin went to buy a soda from a vending machine and take a seat while Sousuke finished his turn. For someone who claimed to enjoy bowling for fun, Sousuke wasn't very good. He was eleven points behind Rin, who despised the sport and avoided it at all costs. Sousuke would swing his arm back slowly and then release the ball, sometimes jerking his shoulder forward and dropping the ball loudly onto the polished wood of the floor before it lazily made its way towards the pins.

This time, Sousuke was winding up right after another gutter ball and Rin winced. Rin didn't really care to see his friend fail so miserably again, so he stood up and walked over to him.

"Uh, Sousuke…" Rin started, not sure how to break the news that his friend couldn't bowl for shit. "Maybe you should, like, get a drink or something and come back in a few minutes."

Sousuke, knowing exactly why Rin had suggested a break, turned his head over his shoulder and looked at Rin with exasperated eyes. "Yeah, that's a good idea." It was bad enough that he had to lie to Rin about liking bowling in the first place, but then to look like a total idiot because he actually hadn't bowled more than once or twice before in his life? He sighed and put his bowling ball back on the metal holding bay at their lane.

Rin followed Sousuke over to the vending machines and waited while Sousuke paid for a bottle of diet Pepsi. He noticed Sousuke cupping his shoulder and rolling it back. Rin wondered if Sousuke was sore from all of his jerky swings.

"Does your shoulder usually hurt when you bowl?" Rin asked, leaning back against a wall. Sousuke's eyes widened as they had when Rin had asked him earlier questions, his natural calmness flickering. Obviously something in Rin's statement had struck a chord with Sousuke, but Rin wasn't sure why. It seemed like a pretty straightforward question to him.

"Um, yeah, well, no…" Sousuke stopped rubbing his shoulder and reached down to pick up his Pepsi, opening it and taking a sip. He didn't really want to go into his shoulder's history right then, and he was sure that if he did, it would raise some other questions about why he bowled in the first place, which he didn't, and then his whole cover would be blown. After searching for a better way out and turning up no results, Sousuke sighed. "It's not the bowling that hurts it. It just...aggravates it." Rin raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting a better explanation.

"Look," Sousuke continued, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know that I used to be an officer too, right?" Rin nodded, remembering how Sousuke had come down from Kyoto before joining his station as an investigator. Sousuke had never really talked about it much, but Rin was aware of his past status. He wasn't quite sure how his occupation related to shoulder-bowling issues though.

"Well, I was working on a case a few years ago when I was shot in the shoulder. It wasn't anything spectacular-just an armed robbery-and when I went after the guy, he just spun around and shot me. I was being careless, and now this is what I have to show for it. That's when I moved down here and became an investigator, partially to save my shoulder and partially to save my pride."

Rin's eyes widened and his jaw went slack. He had no idea… Sousuke cleared his throat. "It's really not a huge deal, it's just sometimes it can act up when I'm engaging in activities like this. It doesn't always get irritated though," Sousuke added, covering for the other times he went "bowling" for fun. He turned away from Rin and started walking back towards their lane.

Rin scrambled after him, still in shock about what he just learned. Sousuke sat down on the bench facing their lane, taking a sip from the diet Pepsi. He bent over and set the Pepsi underneath the bench, near his feet. He crossed his legs and reached his arm over the top of the bench, leaning cockily into his good shoulder. He smirked, obviously leaving the story about his shoulder behind. Rin shook his head, and though he was genuinely concerned about Sousuke at the moment, he couldn't let a touching story get the best of him.

"It's your turn, Rin," Sousuke said, voice icy as ever.

Rin sighed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.  _I'm going to murder Gou for this_ , he thought sourly. He stalked over to where his bowling ball rested and picked it up like it was a decapitated head. He walked to behind the line of their lane and paused to gauge the pins that lay ahead of him. Despite his hatred for the sport of bowling, Rin couldn't contain his inner competitiveness. He wanted to get that strike, just as a sort of "screw you" to his sister. Taking a few deep breaths in, he made his move to the line, but right before he made his toss, the bottom of his sneaker caught the floor, causing him to trip and wildly release the bowling ball. The ball veered sharply to the lane next to theirs, flying a good four feet in the air, and effectively scaring the eleven year old about to bowl. The ball landed in the middle of the lane and rolled slowly to the left before falling in the gutter.

"Dammit!" growled Rin, brushing himself off. He placed his hands on hips, his eyebrow twitching in agitation. He was listening to the excited chatter of the kids in the lane where his ball just ended up when a loud, deep laugh suddenly erupted behind him. Rin whipped around to see Sousuke doubled over in laughter, causing his temper to flare even more. His face reddened, partially out of fury, partially out of embarrassment.

"Oh shut up!" he snarled at Sousuke, who sat up, still laughing. Sousuke couldn't get over how hilariously frustrated Rin was- it was  _bowling_. His normally icy eyes glinted mischievously, revelling in Rin's irritation. Rin continued to get more flustered, barking, "You should talk, Mr. Gutter Ball!"

Although a little annoyed at Rin's last dig, Sousuke continued to laugh when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. Without bothering to check who was calling, he answered it, trying to contain his laughter. "Hello?"

"Hi, Sousuke," a familiar female voice replied.

The humor in Sousuke's voice instantly died. "Gou?" he asked, brow furrowing.

Rin jolted upright. He frowned, his hands still shaking in anger. Why was his sister calling Sousuke?

"Yeah, it's me," Gou answered, laughing cajolingly. "So… how's your date going?"

"What do you mean how's my date going?" Sousuke grunted, seeing Rin bristle out of the corner of his eye. "I thought  _you_  had asked  _me_ on a date."

"Wait, WHAT?!" Rin screeched, storming over to Sousuke.  _My sister asked my best friend out on a date?!_

Sousuke immediately regretted his careless slip when he saw the look of murder in Rin's eyes. "But you also asked Rin to join you here too, didn't you?" he quickly interjected, hoping that would make Rin pause.

"Well… yes," Gou admitted. "It's just… the two of you spend so much time at work, never having fun, so I thought I'd try to get you two to go out and have fun together for once."

"You set us up," Sousuke realized. "You tried to play matchmaker."

The look of murder in Rin's eyes intensified, but this time they were directed to the phone, not Sousuke. "We're not a couple!" he shouted.

"Was that Rin?" Gou asked, sounding a little nervous. "This is why I called you and not him- I figured you would take it better."

Sousuke's eyebrow twitched in aggravation and he placed a hand to his forehead, trying to ignore the headache that was brimming.

"You guys are just so perfect for each other!" Gou gushed. "I couldn't help it."

Rin extended his hand to Sousuke. "Let me talk with her," he said, his voice dangerously calm.

Gou obviously heard her brother's suggestion, and chuckled nervously. "Anyways, something just came up, so I have to go!" She abruptly hung up, leaving a static sound rustling in Sousuke's ear.

"She hung up," he bluntly told Rin, who groaned loudly and pressed the palms of his hands to his face in frustration. "Rin," Sousuke said after a moment or two of letting Rin steam. "Did you tell her I'm gay?"

Rin sat up, pushing back his bangs, and let out a sharp laugh, still tinted by his anger with his sister. "No, well, I mean I didn't really need to." Sousuke's eyes widened.

"She knows?" Sousuke asked, looking a bit betrayed.

"Have you  _seen_ that bag?" Rin asked, putting one hand on his hip and pointing with the other at the cloth messenger bag sitting on the chair opposite him. "If you want people thinking you're straight, you should invest in something not designed with a built-in makeup compartment!" Sousuke glared.

"It's for organizing office supplies!" Sousuke countered. "And at least I don't wear my hair in a ponytail."

Rin shot up out of his chair, hand resting on the elastic band securing his hair out of his face. "Well I don't need to convince anybody I'm straight, do I? Since I actually  _am_ straight, I don't have anything to hide." Rin crossed his arms and closed his eyes victoriously, mouth fixed in a snarl.

Sousuke felt a vein pulsing in his forehead as he clenched his fists, infuriated by the statement. He hated how Rin would constantly make claims about his own sexuality, despite the fact that once, Rin had admitted to him that he had feelings for men, too. Yet, somehow, after that one stray statement, Rin had resumed his act of claiming that he only had feelings for women, and asserted the claim more obviously than ever. He would never be overtly rude about Sousuke's sexuality, and genuinely supported him, but whenever Rin was put in a situation that could possibly compromise the general public's take on his attractions, Rin went crazy and Sousuke had to calm him down.

"Yeah, Rin," Sousuke said, voice bitter. "You're straight, I get it." An alley staff member who was passing by their lane had stopped to listen in, looking as if they couldn't decide if they should intervene, and quickly scampered off when faced with Sousuke's icy glare.

"Now if only Gou would accept it and move on," Rin mused, oblivious to the clear irritation in Sousuke's voice. He finally opened his eyes and looked at Sousuke questioningly. "Does wearing my hair back really make me look gay?"

It took all of Sousuke's strength not to punch Rin square in the face right then and there. Instead, he gritted his teeth and replied, "Why would you care? Like you said-you have nothing to hide." Rin opened his mouth to protest but Sousuke waved him off, walking over to his messenger bag and hoisting it onto his shoulder. "Look, I should probably go. I was only here out of politeness to your sister in the first place, considering that I legitimately hate bowling, so there's no reason for me to stay."

"Yeah," Rin agreed, swiping his half-finished soda from the side table next to him. "I guess there's no reason for me to stay in this hellish place any longer either. I'll go tell the worker at the desk we're finished."

By the time Rin returned from the desk, Sousuke was gone. Rin glanced around, finding that the only hint of Sousuke's presence was the swinging glass door at the front of the alley. Rin huffed in annoyance. He didn't understand why Sousuke got so offended. It wasn't like Rin had told him he was disgusted by him being gay or anything. Rin just didn't want to be labeled as something he wasn't. Surely Sousuke could understand that? Didn't he want to be seen as himself?

Despite trying to convince himself that he was in the right, he felt a little glimmer of guilt in his stomach. He and Sousuke fought often, about anything and everything, but they had never truly fought about each other's sexualities before. He shook his head, shoving the guilt into a deep crevice. Picking up his bag, he stormed out of the bowling alley, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

_Cinnamon…_

Haru drew up a hand to stroke his lips, softly closing his eyes as he remembered the taste. It was around seven in the evening and he was lying on his bed, where he had been for awhile now. The dim light from the street outside lit horizontal lines from his blinds on the ceiling, large and geometric. He had skipped dinner with Rei and Nagisa, much to their protests, so he could think and be in quiet.

Haru was still in shock over Makoto kissing him. He had replayed the moment over and over again in his mind, but every time it felt even less real. The warmth from Makoto's body, the way he looked at Haru, the way his lips felt and tasted, all felt too  _good_ , too  _right_  to be reality, but Haru felt that they were too vivid for him to make them up. His mind swirled incoherently at the memories of the sensations, filled with some sort of hopeless exhilaration. He had never been kissed by anyone, and had no idea what he was doing, but even with the awkward moments the kiss had given him shivers up and down.

" _I really like you, Haru-chan."_

Makoto's touch wasn't the only thing that was circulating through Haru's mind. His words and voice, caring and polite, proved just as confusing and unreal as his actions. He had spoken to Haru with such conviction and sincerity, but even with hearing him say outright that he liked him, Haru was filled with doubt and unease. Why would Makoto like him? What was so special about him? Makoto had far more gifts and traits than Haru could ever dream of acquiring, so why would he be interested in a quiet, awkward fish market worker, when he could have so much more?

Haru had never expected that those understanding green eyes that he had formed an obsession with that Christmas Eve would end up to be owned by his first kiss. Those eyes had intrigued him, made him want to see them again, but never for one second would he have thought that those eyes would want to see him too. As surprised as Haru was about it, apparently those eyes did want to see him…?

Haru's affection for Makoto was growing deeper every day, and it scared him. He had never felt something like this before,  _purposely_  never letting himself get this attached, but his long standing indifference and passivity were crumbling in the wake of Makoto. He felt as if he were in the ocean, an anchor tied to him and pulling him farther and farther into unknown depths, unable to hoist himself back up above the surface. But there was the promise of gold and treasure at the bottom, so he let himself be dragged down, knowing well that all that might await him was an empty sea floor. Or, some large creature waiting to devour him…

They had spoken a little over text since the kiss, but neither of them brought it up, instead talking about mindless, innocuous things. Haru didn't really know what it meant that they had kissed. Were they dating? Did Makoto even want a relationship? He had next to no experience as far as romantic things went and had no clue what to do or how to approach situations. Unwittingly, images of Makoto kissing him once and then forgetting it kept popping into his mind, riddling his mind with anxiety. His attachment to Makoto had already grown stronger than any other attachments he had had for people in the past, save for Rei and Nagisa, but it was different with his roommates, easier and more lighthearted. The thought of Makoto leaving him or not being interested in him anymore filled Haru with an achy, burning pain in his stomach.

Haru jolted up in his bed, now even more worried and conflicted than he had been before. He felt, for the first time, really, the need to talk to someone. To confide in and get advice. There were only two people that Haru trusted enough for this, but they weren't exactly the greatest choices.  _I'm going to regret this,_  Haru thought to himself as he slipped out of bed and walked over to his door.  _I must be really desperate._  He slowly walked out of his room, hearing the voices of his roommates coming from the dining room as he reluctantly poked his head out of the hallway.

Rei was sitting at the kitchen table, studiously poring over his ever-present notes and documents, while Nagisa was pacing back and forth beside the table, obviously bored with the lack of attention he was receiving. He huffed and pouted, folding his arms, before a sneaky smile spread over his face and he carefully inched towards the table. His arm snaked out and snatched several pieces of paper from one of Rei's meticulously organized stacks.

"Nagisa!" Rei protested as Nagisa giggled and held the papers out of his reach. "Put those back!"

"Or what?" Nagisa quipped, a devilish grin on his face. "You're going to spank me?"

Rei sighed and rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Nagisa…" he began, before noticing Haru standing there watching them. "Oh, Haru!"

Nagisa's head whipped around in excitement. "Haru-chan!" he called out exuberantly. Taking advantage of Nagisa's distraction, Rei leaned forward and snatched the stolen papers from the blonde's clutch, carefully making them even and replacing them back in their pile. Nagisa ran forward and tackled Haru in a hug, Haru grumbling in discomfort. "Are you okay? You didn't eat dinner with us!"

Haru tried to respond, but Nagisa's grip around him was crushing his lungs and all he could manage was a dull wheeze. "Let Haru breath, Nagisa," Rei scolded, laughing slightly. Nagisa reluctantly let go of Haru, who inhaled and exhaled deeply, his ribs stinging from Nagisa's tight hug. After letting Haru catch his breath, Rei leaned back against the table and folded his arms. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, a concerned look in his eye. "You haven't been yourself the past few days."

There was an awkward silence, Haru awkwardly wringing his hands. Haru sighed and bit his lip. "I… have a question for you guys," he said, looking up at their expectant faces for a moment before glancing away. "Um…" He didn't even know what to ask or how to phrase it.  _How do regular people ask for advice?_  He cleared his throat. "What do… you guys think… um… Makoto thinks of me?" he mumbled, shamefully looking at the floor.

Both Nagisa and Rei frowned in confusion.

"Mako-chan likes you lots!" Nagisa immediately answered. "He bought you mackerel!"

"Yes, I would definitely say Makoto cares about you," agreed Rei, adjusting his glasses. "He's the first person you've gotten close to other than Nagisa and myself, and in such a short time too…" He gave Haru a scrutinizing look. "Did… something happen to prompt this?"

Haru blanched and backed away. "Um…" He continued wringing his hands and shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. "Well…" He flicked his eyes down to the floor. "The other day…" An inadvertent blush filled his face. "Makoto… um… kissed me."

"EH?!" Nagisa shouted, flailing his arms spastically. "MAKO-CHAN KISSED YOU?!" Haru blushed deeper and tried to shield his face in embarrassment.

Rei raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth in shock. "He did?!" he exclaimed, unfolding his arms. He put a hand to his chin and looked like he was configuring something in his mind. "Well if he did that, I'd say that he certainly has romantic feelings for you." He wryly raised an eyebrow and gave Haru a small smile. "Do you reciprocate those feelings?"

"Of course he does!" answered Nagisa, flinging an arm around Haru's shoulder, who promptly shrugged him off. "Haru-chan likes Mako-chan! Haru-chan likes Mako-chan!" He kept up with his chant until Rei shushed him. They both turned their eyes to Haru, who shrank back.

There was a silence as the two of them waited for Haru's reply. "Yeah, okay," he muttered grumpily. "I like Makoto."

"YAY!" Nagisa attempted to pull him into another rib crunching hug, but Haru was prepared this time and fended off the shorter man.

Rei watched the two of them struggle with a bemused expression, making no movements to assist either of them. "So then what's the problem?" he asked Haru, who was busy swatting away Nagisa's clingy hands. Nagisa sighed and gave up, folding his arms and pouting.

Haru caught his breath and turned to face Rei. "Well, neither of us have said anything about it since then," he began. "I don't know whether he wants a… relationship or not."

Rei nodded. "Ah, I see," he replied, adjusting his glasses. "Then you should call him and ask."

"Huh?!" Haru blurted, instantly filled with panic. "I can't do that!"

"Haru, a relationship is nothing without communication," Rei counseled, folding his arms again. "It is one of the key factors that either makes it, or breaks it." He gave Haru a serious, mildly threatening look. "You're an adult. Call him."

Haru breathed heavily, the phone in his pocket seeming to grow heavier. It didn't really seem like Rei was just giving him a friendly suggestion, it seemed more like a command. He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked down to see Nagisa looking up at him with an uncharacteristically solemn expression.

"Call him," he said quietly, sending chills of pure terror down Haru's back.

Haru immediately pulled out his phone and unlocked it, selecting Makoto's name from his contact list and taking a deep breath before pressing 'Call'. He pressed the receiver to his ear, getting nervous jitters as he heard the first ring.

"Put it on speakerphone," Rei said, making Haru widen his eyes in horror and mouth a firm 'no'. "We're going to have to coach you through this." Haru shook his head.

"Haru-chan," Nagisa said ominously, still giving him that dark look.

_This is where it ends,_ Haru thought lifelessly as he pressed the speaker button.

The phone rang another time before there was click. "Haru!" Makoto answered, a surprised tone in his voice. "You're calling me!"

"Um, yeah," Haru replied.  _Because my roommates forced me to._  He waved a hand dismissively at Rei and Nagisa, who were violently gesturing and mouthing things at him.  _This is what they call coaching?_  He sighed. "I have a, um, question."

"Oh!" Makoto responded perkily. "Well, fire away!"

"Um…" Haru felt butterflies in his stomach form as he racked his mind for what to say.  _It was a bad idea to ask Rei and Nagisa for advice_ , he thought bitterly. There was a thick, uncomfortable silence as Haru breathed shakily into the receiver. "So…" Rei had already given up trying to coach Haru, defeatedly holding his forehead in his hand. "About the other day…"

"Oh, t-that!" Makoto said, his voice catching slightly. "Um, what about it?"

"Well…" Haru coughed. "What did- do you- are we-" He stammered pathetically, mentally shooting himself for his incompetence with communication. Nagisa watched him with a concerned, pitying look, making Haru feel even more mortified. "I just wanted to know-" He huffed in frustration, unable to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say.

To his surprise, Makoto let out a vibrant laugh. "I thought it was pretty clear," he admitted in amusement. After taking a few breaths, his laughing slowly quieted. "Do you… want an official label?"

Both Rei and Nagisa immediately perked up and began motioning excitedly at Haru who recoiled slightly in surprise. "U-Uh," Haru choked, distracted by his roommates' antics.

Makoto chuckled affectionately. "Okay," he said, apparently gathering something from Haru's incoherency. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

Haru's eyes widened in shock at Rei and Nagisa, who froze and looked back at him, before Nagisa let out a gleeful yell and tackled Haru in a hug. Haru yelped in surprise and tried to pry Nagisa's hands from his waist, fumbling with his phone and nearly dropping it on the floor. "Shut up!" he hissed as Rei burst out laughing.

"Haru?" Makoto questioned in a confused tone. "What was that? ...A-Are Rei and Nagisa with you?"

"Hiya, Mako-chan!" Nagisa called out into the direction of the phone, giggling impishly.

"Shut up, Nagisa!" Haru growled, finally freeing himself from Nagisa's clutches and giving the smaller male a shove, who just continued laughing, infuriating Haru even more. He grinned and winked. Haru scowled at him with as much venom as he could muster, but it did nothing to intimidate the blond.

"Um," Makoto coughed from the phone speaker, sounding uncomfortable. "H-Have they been there for this whole conversation?"

Haru gave one last look to his smug roommate before bringing the phone back up to his face. "...Yes," he reluctantly admitted.

"A-Ah…" Makoto trailed off, his voice shy and filled with discomfort.

Haru sighed. "They forced me to call you," he explained. "And made me put you on speaker."

"Oh," breathed Makoto. "But… why?"

"Because…" Haru bit his lip and sniffed. "I didn't have the confidence to ask you on my own." He blinked and looked down at his feet, making Rei and Nagisa glance towards each other knowingly.

There was a silence at the end of the phone and Haru panicked for a moment, thinking Makoto had hung up. "Then I'm glad," Makoto finally spoke. "You don't have to worry about things like that around me. I like it when you speak up."

Rei raised his eyebrows pointedly, mouthing " _Communication"_  at Haru, who rolled his eyes.

"I'm glad they care so much about you," Makoto continued. Nagisa nodded and puffed his out his chest pompously, smirking.

"Yeah…" Haru murmured, surprising himself by feeling a little bit of gratefulness, not that he'd admit it to his roommates. "Sorry… about the confusion."

"It's fine," Makoto chuckled amiably. He sighed. "Well, anyways…"

"Oh!" Haru quickly blurted. "Yes."

"Huh?" Makoto asked, perplexed. "What?"

"To your earlier question," Haru answered. "My answer is yes."

"O-Oh!" Makoto exclaimed excitedly, before coughing and toning his voice down. "Uh… I'm… glad to hear that!"

"Um… yeah," Haru said, laughing internally at the awkwardness in Makoto's voice.

"So…" Makoto sounded strained. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, um… bye, then!" Makoto quickly hung up, just barely letting Haru get in a "bye".

Haru stared at the now silent phone for a moment, before turning his eyes up to Rei and Nagisa. They both wore obnoxious, egotistical smiles, like cats who ate the canary. Haru slipped the phone back into his pocket, before turning towards the couch and taking a couple of pillows from it. He faced his roommates again and threw the pillows at them, hitting them both squarely in the face.

"Hey!" Rei shouted, flinging the pillow back at Haru, who easily dodged it. "You could have knocked my glasses off!" He huffed and quickly readjusted his glasses, glancing at Nagisa. "Although I suppose we deserve it."

"Maybe," Nagisa shrugged, before grinning again and moving forward to pat Haru on the shoulder. "But on the bright side, Haru's a taken man now!"

Haru groaned and put his face to his hands. "I'm going to bed," he mumbled through his fingers, shaking off Nagisa's hand. He quickly walked out of the dining room and retreated back to his room, Rei and Nagisa's laughter echoing behind him as he slammed the door. He fell face first into his bed, sighing in frustration and defeat.

After a few minutes, he flopped onto his back, looking back up at his ceiling. His initial anger with his roommates had faded (for the most part) and he had to admit that he felt better than he had before.  _Boyfriend…_  The word felt weird and unfamiliar, but as strange as it was, he liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So notes from both of us this time). SouRin no homo bowling date. Reigisa spanking jokes. That is all.
> 
> MufasasPride: This is probably my favorite chapter, and two of my favorite sections. I've reread these so many times but I'm still entertained (narcissism at its finest). Also, we first wrote the bowling section like five months ago? Holy shit. And yes, I saw my opportunity and I took it by throwing spanking in there. No regrets. (maybe a little bit of regret) I mean, Reigisa had to slip in somewhere, right? Ohohoho.
> 
> sexythroatbitchohyescats: Yes, this is easily one of my favorite sections, just because SouRin bowling is so borderline crack and an excellent break from...well... -thunder cracks- YOU SHALL SEE. I read it when I get sad and I laugh at my own jokes... heh... We did a bit of perspective changing in the bowling to try it out, and because we wanted to write it TOGETHER (most of the other sections are one of us alone) and it was so so so much fun. And I wish I could take credit for the spanking, but alas, I am not that brilliant.
> 
> Next chapter will be up soon... It's a little bit short... And sweet... And fluffy.


	7. Ripples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru takes Makoto swimming, and Makoto does that thing where he's a dork.

Makoto was in awe.

He stood at the edge of the deserted pool, under the blanket of stars that was the glass ceiling, watching Haru swim. No, swim wasn't the right word-it was more like gliding, seamless cutting through the water's resistance. There were about fifty other adjectives and words that came to Makoto's mind as he stared rapturously at the slim man moving before him, but none of them seemed to correctly capture the beauty and splendor of Haru's strokes. Makoto had known of Haru's obvious love for water, but he hadn't any clue of how truly in his element he was when it came to it.

Haru had of course been the one to suggest making use of his after hours pool membership and going swimming, and Makoto had willingly obliged, for he figured that it must be pretty special for Haru to invite him into his world. He couldn't deny that he was curious to see what Haru was like when finally submerged, for living in Tokyo rarely gave him the chance to do so. But he couldn't have possibly imagined how chills would ripple down his spine as he watched Haru flip underwater and change direction, so quickly and smoothly that he would have missed it if he had blinked.

"Makoto?" Haru called out, snapping Makoto out of his reverie. "Are you going to get in?"

Makoto blinked, realizing he had been blatantly staring at Haru. His face immediately burned with embarrassment as he laughed nervously and drew a hand up to the back of his neck. "A-Ah, yeah!" he stammered, ruffling the back of his hair. He prayed that Haru wasn't noticing the flaming blush on his cheeks, but something about the subtle hint of a smirk on his lips told Makoto otherwise.

He quickly jumped in, hoping that the water would refresh him after his awkward moment. Instead, it simply led to another embarrassment, as he let out a high-pitched squeak upon hitting the cold surface.

"Eeek!"

Makoto threw a hand over his mouth as his body reeled from the temperature shock.  _How can Haru swim in this?_  He quickly scoured the pool to see if Haru was still above water, still watching. Thankfully, Haru wasn't where he had been a moment ago, and when Makoto caught a glimpse of a lithe form about ten feet away, silently spiraling beneath the surface, he breathed a sigh of relief knowing his screech had fallen on deaf ears.  _He just can't control himself,_  Makoto thought affectionately, watching Haru cut through the water, sighing and cracking a bemused smile.  _I suppose I should join him._

Makoto shivered as he completely submerged himself in the water and swam over to where Haru was. Upon reaching Haru's general area, Makoto lowered his feet to the bottom of the pool to stand, and waited for his presence to be noticed. Crossing his arms, he rubbed his hands rapidly across his skin, hoping to strike up some heat.  _Come on, Haru…_  Makoto thought as he stood alone above water. He looked desperately at Haru's twisting body, thinking of the heat that usually emanated from it, and how it could warm him as well. After a few more painful seconds of wishing, Haru rose up out of the water, swishing his hair off of his face and meeting Makoto's eyes.

"Are you okay?" Haru asked, his eyebrows raised apprehensively as he took in the man before him.

Makoto blinked. "Y-Yeah!" he replied, cringing internally at how ridiculous he sounded. Heart pounding, and skin prickling from the ice around him, he attempted a weak smile. "S-Sorry!"

"What are you apologizing for?" Haru asked. "I just asked if you were okay."

"Oh, sorr-I mean, n-nothing." The sound of Makoto's teeth chattering came out all too clearly when he spoke, and Haru picked up on it immediately. Haru advanced towards him, coming close enough to extend a hand and place it on Makoto's chest.

"You're cold," Haru stated bluntly, studying the goosebumps beneath his fingertips. Makoto cringed, noticing the warmth of Haru's touch in a way that was too painful to be true. Despite having been submerged in freezing pool water for a decent amount of time, Haru's body still managed to produce a toasty heat, and Makoto wanted to wrap himself up in it.

"It's n-not that bad," Makoto defended unconvincingly, blissfully closing his eyes as he focused on the patch of heat in the center of his chest. "I'm fine." He felt his body drifting closer to Haru's, moving closer into the field of body heat.  _So warm…_

"You need to swim," Haru prescribed, retracting his hand. Makoto gasped at the loss of contact and the cold air that rushed in to replace Haru's skin. "If you move, you'll warm up."

Makoto's eyes widened in surprise, and he inhaled sharply. He watched as a little droplet of water fell from a jet black lock of hair and landed on Haru's cheek, trickling down his face. Haru kept his sharp gaze locked on to him for another moment, before he blinked and softened, turning his face away.

After an awkward pause, Makoto lifted his chin and smiled. "Hey, l-let's have a race!" he suggested, making Haru turn towards him again.

Haru's eyebrow quirked up. "A race?"

The look of disbelief and subtle excitement dancing in Haru's eyes made Makoto immediately regret his idea, and the thoughtlessness with which he verbalized it. Of course racing Haru was a bad idea-Haru was practically a fish. Nevertheless, the words had slipped out, and Haru seemed intrigued. What was the worst thing that could happen? "Yeah, well, we came here to swim, didn't we?"

Tilting his head, Haru looked like he was pondering the suggestion. Finally, the ends of his mouth twitched upwards. "Okay," he murmured, his sapphire eyes glinting. He nodded to the wall of the pool. "First one back here wins." He turned and focused his eyes to the other end of the pool, immediately getting in the competitive spirit.

Makoto, too, turned to the other end. His shivering had stilled with the prospect of a race, and the sense of competition (though the results were already decided, as far as he was concerned) fired him up a bit. "Ready?" he asked when they were in position, raising an eyebrow. Haru gave a minute nod. "Go!"

The two of them pushed off the wall and began cutting through the water. Makoto was in the lead for about half a second from the force of his push, but there was no competing with Haru once they began their strokes. Makoto was swimming faster than he ever had in his life, but the pool was Haru's domain, and it showed. At one point in time, Makoto had been a fairly strong swimmer, notably so in the backstroke, considering his long arms and broad shoulders, but he hadn't engaged in the activity in so long that no prior experience was going to help him.

Haru was swimming freestyle, it appeared, so Makoto tried his best to match him. Haru was a good five feet ahead of Makoto and the gap was increasing. As hard as Makoto was fighting, Haru, slipped through the water like a bullet through a sheet of paper, as if the water was pushing him and not the other way around. Haru reached the other side considerably sooner than Makoto and immediately whipped around to head back. As Haru turned, Makoto could clearly observe his movements, and he found himself split between watching Haru and trying to swim. Makoto considered an attempt at mimicking the swift movements, but Haru's prowess in the pool was something Makoto doubted anyone could learn overnight, if ever.

Upon finally returning to their starting point, Makoto surfaced, panting, his face flushed.  _Haru was right,_ he thought as he felt heat steadily coursing through his body, a direct result of the intense physical activity.  _The water barely feels cold at all._  He looked at Haru, who was panting as well, although not as heavily as he was, and smiled.

"You beat me," Makoto huffed lightheartedly. He leaned back against the wall to rest his body on his elbows. "I've never seen someone swim like that before. You're really amazing, Haru-chan."

Haru tilted his head. "Do I win anything?" he inquired, a slightly impish smirk on his face.

Makoto raised his eyebrows and laughed in shock.  _Haru… making a joke?_  He had been expecting Haru to simply return to the water or maybe say "Drop the -chan", but he had gotten something entirely different and quite rare instead. Haru continued to surprise him with little things that he would say and do, and Makoto guessed a joke would have been coming soon enough. Haru never did anything  _too_ unpredictable in the first place, so small things like smiles or jokes became astonishing as a result. Beneath the cool, passive exterior was someone that Makoto found himself quickly growing more and more attached to with every minute they spent together, and Makoto found his odd quirks and habits to be endearing.

"Ah, I'll try to think of something," Makoto chuckled, smiling warmly. "And I'll try to keep up better next time, though I doubt it'll make a difference." Haru looked down pensively at the water, and Makoto took his hand and squeezed it, prompting Haru to meet his eyes again. "Come on, let's go again! You were right about swimming warming me up-I feel a lot better now."

"Makoto." Haru took Makoto's hand in both of his, and bored into his eyes with a sense of urgency. "Don't try to win."

"Oh, um…" Makoto shifted uneasily under the sapphire gaze. He wasn't expecting Haru to become so serious all of a sudden, but maybe competition was really important to him… Makoto laughed off the discomfort, hoping to lighten the change in mood. "It's really not important to me if I win or lose. This is all just for fun, isn't it?"

Haru's face fell back towards the water, but he quickly looked back up, wearing a soft smile and waves shimmering in his eyes. "Yeah, it is."

Makoto sighed, pushing off the wall and sinking into the water once again. "Okay, then let's have some fun. You might need to give me a five second start this ti-"

"Makoto?"

"Yeah?"

"The water is alive. Accept its presence."

Makoto paused and turned back to Haru as his words rang out through the empty room. The intensity was back in his eyes and it was flaming. Makoto swallowed. "Oh… I've never really thought about water like that before, exactly." He dipped his fingers into the water, a dewy reflection of the stars above, and drew them up, letting droplets fall from the tips. "I guess I should think about water more often, since I'm...interacting...with it all the time at the station. Maybe if I swam more often-"

Haru suddenly grabbed Makoto's hand, dripping and hovering above the water's surface, and plunged it into the dancing glass to guide it forward. "Thrust your fingers into the surface and carve an opening," Haru instructed. "And then push your body through that opening." Makoto stared, surprised, at their hands, but let his hand glide gently beneath Haru's in the water. He wasn't quite sure what Haru was saying or why, but he remained silent, content to simply follow along and watch. With Haru's guidance, his hand moved seamlessly through it's thick surroundings, meeting less and less resistance as Haru narrowed their path.

"Don't resist the water," Haru continued. When Makoto looked up, he saw that Haru was just as intently fixated on the hands as he was, calculating little turns and sways as he led them. "Welcome it." He spiraled their hands so their palms met, and Makoto took the opportunity to lace their fingers together, feeling the delicious warmth course between their skin. He was certain that that wasn't what Haru had intended by his instructions, but he couldn't resist. Everything just fit so...perfectly.

Haru studied their grip silently for a few moments, before releasing and sinking below the water, only his eyes and nose remaining above the surface. Makoto tensed, feeling the cold once again.  _I guess I surprised him…_ he thought. Sighing, Makoto lowered himself further into the water and pushed off of the wall, kicking his way into the center of the pool.

"Come on, Haru!" he called out to the man on the other end. "Let's swim some more-no racing." When Haru didn't respond, he sent a splash of water his way. Haru flipped so his back took the hit. "Don't sulk or I'll have to splash you again," he teased. Makoto winked when he caught Haru's eye, and he thought he could even detect a small smile playing on Haru's lips.

Haru's mouth moved as if muttering something before he dove back into the water and took after Makoto. As soon as he reached Makoto, though, he flipped upside down in the water and sent out a sizable wave with his feet, splashing up to Makoto's face.

"Hey!" Makoto laughed, wiping water out of his eyes. "I never said that you could splash me!"

Haru surfaced, flipping his bangs out of his face. He was smiling. "I guess I'll have to repay you, then."

"How about as your prize for winning the race, you don't have to repay me?" Makoto suggested.

Haru shook his head. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but then decided against it. He stood up in the water and stepped towards Makoto. "Do you trust me?" he asked, taking Makoto's hand again. Makoto's eyes widened.

"O-Of course," Makoto stuttered, but this time, not because his teeth were chattering.

"Then take a deep breath."

Makoto didn't have time to respond as Haru tugged him into the water, so he blindly inhaled and plunged beneath the surface. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, but opened them when he felt he was being watched. Naturally, his feeling was right.

They had been swimming together all night, but Makoto still hadn't seen Haru clearly beneath the surface. Everytime he had caught sight of him, there were waves or ripples or bubbles obscuring his vision, and Haru moved too quickly to get a clear picture anyways. But floating beneath the crystal waves, moonlight refracting through the water and dancing across the floor and their bodies, Makoto got a clear picture of Haru in his own world, and it was more beautiful than he could have imagined.

Makoto only got to gaze for a moment though, as soon, a shadow washed over his face, commanding him to close his eyes.  _So that's why I needed to take a deep breath,_ Makoto thought. He leaned forward into the now dark water, where Haru was floating in front of him. Parting his lips, he waited to meet Haru's, but the touch never came. When he opened his eyes, he found Haru staring at him curiously, eyes wide and hair billowing out around his face, as if he wasn't quite sure what was going on. Realizing his mistake, Makoto gasped, and earned himself a painful reminder that he was still underwater.

"G-G-Ack," Makoto spluttered, shooting to the surface in a desperate attempt to simultaneously fill his lungs with air and rid them of water. He keeled over, coughing.  _Why did I think he was going to kiss me?_ he mentally berated himself.  _Now I just look like an idiot._

"Makoto?" Haru asked, his voice full of worry as he placed a tentative hand on Makoto's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Makoto glanced at Haru through watery eyes as coughs racked his frame. "Uh, yeah I-I'm fine I just, um, swallowed some water." The words came out choppy, in between violent hacks, and Makoto grew more and more embarrassed as Haru watched him. The coughing alone was bad enough, but the reason he had ended up with water up his nose was even more reason to make him want to disappear.

"I'm fine," Makoto repeated once most of the sputtering was over with. He gave his best smile and held up his hands, trying to communicate to Haru that he really was okay and avoid further inquiry. "Don't worry about me."

Haru eyed him suspiciously, not falling for the act. "Makoto, why did you swallow the water? You're supposed to hold your breath."

Makoto grimaced. "Well, I uh… I just forgot."

"You forgot to hold your breath?"

"Yes-well, no!" Makoto looked down at the water lapping at his waist, trying to summon the right words. "I just, um…"

"Makoto." Suddenly, Haru's hands were on his chest, and forcing his face into view. Makoto tried to look away, but he couldn't. He shifted back into the gravity of Haru's eyes as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and in a way, he supposed it was.

"Listen, Haru, I just-"

Haru cut Makoto off, shooting him a powerful glare. "You said I didn't have to worry about talking to you before, on the phone, and… Makoto, I don't want you to be afraid of talking to me either. Especially if it endangers you in the water." Haru looked down and swallowed, and Makoto could tell that it was taking a great deal of effort on his part to say such a thing. Knowing that Haru was lowering his own defenses to look out for him made Makoto feel a bit less nervous, but it didn't stop his cheeks from flaming when he confessed.

"I didn't swallow water because I forgot to hold my breath. I forgot to hold my breath because I thought you were going to kiss me."

"O-Oh," Haru replied, realization spreading over his face. He cleared his throat. "I was just going to play the game where you see how long you can stay underwater." Haru clenched his fists and looked up towards the sky at nothing in particular, resolution flashing over his features. "I hope to one day hold my breath as long as a dolphin."

Makoto stared at Haru in disbelief for a moment, before bursting out laughing. Haru didn't even care about why he choked on the water-he just wanted to be a dolphin. "Oh, Haru-chan…" Makoto smiled affectionately. "Well, if anyone could do that, it would be you. Come on, let's try again."

Giving a minute nod, Haru turned back to Makoto, and together, they slipped back underwater. Makoto made sure to keep his mouth closed and eyes open, content to simply observe Haru in what might as well have been his natural habitat. Beneath the surface where water swirled around his body and chlorine stung his eyes, Makoto knew he could stay watching Haru for hours, or at least until he ran out of breath.


	8. Some Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto realizes something, Haru worries, Mr. Tachibana is introduced, and Rin apologizes.

Makoto sat on his bed, laptop resting on his legs, as he opened a new tab on his browser. On his walk home from Haru's apartment after what was becoming a quite frequent occurrence of dinner and documentary with Haru, that night accompanied by Rei and Nagisa, Makoto had realized a question that had been bothering him for a while. Something about the area of Haru's apartment felt very familiar-as if he had been there even before he and Haru had become directly acquainted.

Makoto typed Haru's address into the search bar and hit "enter" pulling up a mix of maps and advertisements for rentals in the same area. After scrolling further down the second page of results, Makoto found what he was looking for. It was a news report from December of the previous year, titled "Christmas fire leaves building tenants shaken".

Makoto clicked on the link and scrolled down the page, seeing that there had been minimal damage to the apartment but that the whole building had had to be evacuated anyways. The more he read, the more Makoto remembered the particular fire. The apartment owners had started a fire, intoxicated, and then had tried to put it out by pouring whatever bottles of liquid they had on the flames. Naturally, they made the fire flare up even more, seeing as the only bottles they had on hand contained alcohol.

Reclining back on his pillows, Makoto pushed back his reading glasses and laughed at the image of Nagisa pouring bottles of wine onto a kitchen fire, probably getting yelled at by Rei for his carelessness. Haru, of course, would have had one of his typical scowls on his face-the ones he often wore when Nagisa insisted on talking too loudly over the TV or Rei tried to share some of his research with Makoto at the dinner table. Makoto wondered if he had somehow met Haru at the apartment fire but he didn't remember. He pulled out his phone and started a new message.

**To: Haru-chan**

**Hey, Haru! I know it's late, but I just realized that I put out a fire at your apartment last Christmas! How crazy is that? I knew I remembered your apartment from somewhere haha :)**

He sent the message at 12:33 A.M., and when he still didn't receive a reply by 12:51, he decided that Haru was probably asleep and that he should most likely turn in himself. Powering off his laptop, Makoto set it back on his desk with his glasses and crawled beneath the covers of his bed, waiting for morning.

* * *

_Shit shit shit shit shit._

Haru had read the message ten times, and each time he read it, a new wave of anxiety flooded over him. It was 1:12 A.M. and he sat wide awake, pouring over his phone screen, desperately trying to think of an answer.

" _Oh yeah, I remember meeting you. That prompted me to commit arson so I could see you again."_

Obvious no.

" _You're wrong, that must be a different apartment you're thinking of."_

Makoto wasn't dumb.

" _I didn't room with Nagisa and Rei at that time."_

Makoto already knew he had been friends and lived with them for a long time.

" _I was away visiting someone."_

Who was he kidding? He didn't even know anyone he could pretend to visit.

" _Really? I don't remember."_

Haru had to sigh at the patheticness of that one.

After much deliberation with himself, he found a somewhat decent one and typed it out with shaky fingers.

**To: Makoto Tachibana**

**Yeah I remember the fire. I don't think I saw you, though.**

Haru locked his phone and set it on his bedside table, carefully, like it was a bomb about to explode. He leaned back against his pillow and stared at the ceiling.  _What made Makoto suddenly remember?_  he thought. He couldn't remember doing or saying anything that could have triggered it. A sudden feeling of being watched struck Haru, his palms beginning to feel sweaty. He turned his head towards his closet, where he could just make out the dark shadow of his backpack. He had been happy with Makoto, and had barely thought about his fires, but suddenly they came back into his life again. He had thought that he had left arson behind him, but it kept circling around, watching him and waiting. Even though he hadn't lit any fires since the dock, he was so paranoid that he sometimes swore he could smell smoke on his body.

He scrunched his eyes shut.  _Relax, Haru,_  he told himself.  _It probably means nothing._

Nonetheless, Haru didn't sleep at all that night.

* * *

Makoto woke up earlier than usual, instantly feeling and regretting staying up so late the night before. He reached over and grabbed his phone off his bedside table, noting Haru's response. It seemed reasonable enough that Haru didn't see him. There were several other firefighters there and they were all in uniform, and Makoto doubted that anything about him would have seemed noteworthy to Haru in the first place.

Rubbing his eyes, Makoto headed off to shower and get dressed, meeting his family downstairs where they were waiting to walk to the metro station.

"Ready?" Mrs. Tachibana asked as Makoto approached. She was wearing one of her nicer dresses, hair pulled back with a thin gold chain around her neck. Makoto smiled and nodded.

"Mom made muffins," Ran said, holding out a plastic container.

"Yeah, we'll eat them on the way," Ren added. He looked as tired as Makoto felt, obviously unenthusiastic about the events of the day ahead of them. The family walked out the front door, Mrs. Tachibana in the lead, nibbling on muffins in the cool spring air.

After boarding the train, Ren and Ran started bickering about who should get to eat the last muffin. Makoto took the opportunity to lean over to his mother and have a word without the twins getting involved. He knew how they hated talking about such things.

"Do you think the new medication is really helping?" Makoto asked in a low voice. His mother shook her head and sighed.

"No," she responded bluntly before plastering on a smile. "But we've got to let them believe there's still hope. I don't think they're ready to face the reality of losing their dad." She glanced over at the twins, pain clear in her eyes. Unlike Makoto's, his mother's eyes had lost most of their characteristic sparkle. They were a dull, hazy, seafoam green, hardened by days of fear and loss and disappointment. Makoto hated seeing her that way.

After about twenty minutes, the train arrived at the station by the hospital and the Tachibanas exited. They proceeded through the hospital's sliding doors, acquired visitor's passes, and made their way to the wing where Mr. Tachibana stayed. Some of the other patients cracked jokes when people came to visit them there for the first time, gesturing around the room as if it were their house and instead of introducing it as where they live, they would say, "This is where I die". Makoto's dad hadn't yet gotten to where that mindset set, as he shared Makoto's quality of always looking up, even when diagnosed with a terminal illness. He was anything but cynical.

In fact, cynicism about dying wasn't the only misconception of his illness Mr. Tachibana had smashed. Thankfully, Makoto didn't have to smash it often himself, as there were few outsiders who knew about his father's illness in the first place, but it was still always there, and it always came with questions. Pictures and ads with smokers' lungs and the impact of cigarettes were plastered all over the hospital. Makoto knew. He wasn't a stranger to lung cancer, even before he was thrust right into the middle of it. He knew that most of the other patients in the wing had fallen ill after years upon years of packs upon packs of nicotine and tar, but that wasn't his father. He had initially been bitter coming to his father's first rounds of treatments that people in the lobby were grouping him with  _them_ , as his father hadn't befallen terminal illness because he  _wanted_  to inhale smoke. Inhaling smoke and risking his health had been a sacrifice on his part, in order to save other people's lives. So as Makoto drowned in a whirlwind of emotions, furious that lung cancer was what his father received in thanks for such a noble cause, he would forget that the other patients were just as undeserving. Nobody deserved to die like that-not an addict-not a fireman-not his father. He was reminded of that every time he stepped through the hospital doors and smiled at those other patients, and sometimes, if they were feeling well enough, they smiled back.

He remembered it every time he donned his own fireproof coat beneath blazing lights and choked on mouthful of tainted air.

"Hello, Mrs. Tachibana!" their favorite nurse, Hiyori greeted them, outside their Mr. Tachibana's room. "Makoto, Ren, Ran," she nodded to all of them, smiling. "Mr. Tachibana is doing very well today, considering he just received a dose of the medication yesterday morning, and he just woke up from his nap. He says you can come right in."

Hiyori led the family into the room where Mr. Tachibana was propped up in his bed, breathing oxygen from plastic tubes draped around his ears. A monitor on the bedside table displayed various linear patterns in green, yellow, and red, beeping every now and then. Mr. Tachibana smiled.

"Hey, kiddos," he greeted in a voice that was barely a whisper. It was a fainter echo of the voices of older firemen Makoto heard all the time at the station-firefighting's auditory stamp.

"Hi, Dad," Makoto said in response, flashing a warm smile of his own. Ran pushed pass Makoto-not without completing the standard ritual of glossing up her hands with sanitizer-to stand at the edge of her father's bed, as close as she could be to him without risking interference with the tubes and wires connected to his body. Ren held back, drifting into the room behind his mother, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"It's nice to see you awake," Mrs. Tachibana chuckled, following Ran's lead and taking a spot on her husband's other side. "These treatments usually knock you out for a while."

"Well, maybe it's a sign this stuff's finally working," Mr. Tachibana replied. "Right, Hiyori?"

The nurse gave a demure smile from the doorway. "You seem to be doing well so far. Your next radiology follow up is at the end of the month, so we'll be able to tell for sure then."

Mr. Tachibana looked at his wife and raised his eyebrows, as if saying, " _See?"_. She laughed and shook her head.

"If anybody's going to do well with these treatments, it's going to be you." She fingered her necklace as she summoned a thought. "How long has it been since they said you wouldn't make it three months?"

"Mom," Ran pouted, crossing her arms. "Do we have to talk about that now?"

Sighing, Mrs. Tachibana dropped the subject, but Makoto knew it would come up later, when his parents were alone. He knew his mother hadn't meant it to dampen the mood, but rather the complete opposite. It still reminded them of how tenuous things were, though.

"Alright then, Ran," Mr. Tachibana said, breezily segueing into a new topic, "how about you fill me in on what's happening at school?"

As Ran recounted some school drama at the science fair, Makoto leaned down to Ren, who was still lurking near the back of the room, keeping his voice almost inaudible and never breaking his smile. "Try to brighten up for Dad, okay? I know this is hard, but he hasn't seen you that much lately and you know how much it means for him to hear from you."

Ren shifted his feet and grumbled something before nodding, face lifting a bit artificially. "Okay," he agreed, stepping forward to join Ran.

Ren hadn't always been so reluctant to engage on trips to the hospital, but Makoto had noticed him becoming more and more resigned in the past couple of months. Makoto had grown concerned that it was because Ren was starting to realize the reality of their father's illness, but there wasn't much he could do to reassure him. It was only a matter of time before the hospital staff themselves started treating Mr. Tachibana as a terminal patient, rather than offering false hope in doomed, "promising" treatments.

Thinking back on it, it was difficult for Makoto to pinpoint the exact time when things had started to level off. There had been the point, upon the initial diagnosis, when their family had bursted into turmoil and panic. His father had quit his job at the fire station to dive into surgery and chemotherapy, Makoto had returned home from university, and preparations were made for the worst. Nobody was expecting things to work, with how far progressed the cancer already was, but when they had expected death, Mr. Tachibana didn't budge. He didn't get better, but he certainly wasn't dying, so the doctors thought that maybe he was an exception to the terminal rule.

Showing promise, Mr. Tachibana became the perfect candidate for experimental new rounds of chemotherapy, but all they seemed to do was ward the end off. At first, the new treatments were  _everything_. They were going to work, and the hell Makoto and his family had been enduring for the past year and half would finally end. They promised a new quality of life and a brighter future for everyone involved. That was, at least, until the excitement wore off.

The treatments worked, at first, but they eventually became less and less effective. Mr. Tachibana's health veered back towards a state of turbulence, and new, more aggressive treatments were employed to keep his cancer at a standstill. From there, things became routine. There was no longer extra excitement when a doctor approved a new drug, but rather a calm understanding. This was life now, and that was that.

"Makoto?" Ren asked after sharing his own side of the science fair story. "Makoto, it's your turn." Makoto shook his head, realizing he had zoned out waiting for Ren and Ran to finish. He walked up to replace Ren and Ran in the small space at the side of the bed, squirting on a fresh coat of sanitizing gel along the way.

"You've been quiet today," Mr. Tachibana commented when Makoto was close. "Is there something on your mind?"

Makoto shrunk a bit beneath his father's scrutinizing gaze. His eyes managed to pry into Makoto's with the understanding of a parent, but kept a calm reassurance that he respected Makoto's privacy. It had always been like that-even when his father was the one in the hospital, and everyone was worried about him. Mr. Tachibana always concerned himself with everybody else, not dismissing even the smallest problems, like gum getting stuck in Ran's hair, or Ren losing a game of basketball at school.

"Nothing important," Makoto told him. "Just thinking about my schedule for the week."

"Oh." Mr. Tachibana's eyes softened, and he backed down. "How are things going at the station?"

Makoto proceeded to recount the small happenings of his week at work, and his father listened attentively. There really hadn't been much going on, but Makoto was sure that reliving the events from his point of view painted an even less colorful picture than the dull reality. It couldn't be helped, Makoto's attention had just been… elsewhere.

"And how's Haru?"

The question caught Makoto off guard at first, snapping him out of a story about a family's cat he had met after putting out a fire in their kitchen, but when he regained his footing, he couldn't help the smile that spread over his face.

"He's doing well. I had dinner with him last night and we watched a show about the ocean sunfish." It was actually a lie to say that he and Haru had watched the film. They had seen it already, and Rei and Nagisa had thankfully headed out for a walk, which left them alone on a couch in a dark room-not the best recipe for a successful night of attentive movie-watching.

"Did you learn anything?" Mr. Tachibana asked, and Makoto was sure he saw straight through him. It was good he had paid attention to the first few minutes, at least.

"I learned that the average adult fish can weigh a thousand kilos," Makoto said, which somehow made his father break into a fit of raspy chuckles.

"Not about the fish," Mr. Tachibana coughed. "About Haru."

Makoto paused and bit his tongue. He had learned a lot about Haru-about the way his hair felt caught in his eyelashes when they kissed and the way that if he tried hard enough, Makoto could almost make Haru laugh by tickling him right behind his ear-but nothing that didn't light a wildfire on his cheeks. Perhaps… a more tame discovery was Haru's new taking to cinnamon gum.

" _What's this?" Makoto asked, removing his hand from Haru's waist where he had felt a rectangular outline in the fabric of Haru's jacket. He pulled back as Haru reached down and sheepishly produced a pack of cinnamon gum from his pocket._

" _Gum," Haru responded simply, avoiding Makoto's eyes as he spoke, placing the pack on the adjacent coffee table._

" _I didn't realize you liked it." Makoto reached into his own pocket and produced the pack he always carried with him. "Otherwise I would have shared some with you." He tilted his head to the side and smiled, causing Haru to blush. "You've never had gum in your pocket before," he observed._

" _I didn't like it before…" Haru started, breaking off mid-sentence._

" _Before what?" Makoto prompted, realizing that Haru would need some encouragement to finish his explanation. Makoto had gotten to the point where he could tell what Haru was thinking and feeling fairly well on his own, but in terms of random, unexplainable phenomena, Makoto was at a loss._

" _I-" Haru squeezed his eyes shut, a sign that he was truly embarrassed about whatever it was he was trying to say. "I like the taste of cinnamon because it's like you."_

_Makoto stared at Haru for a moment before throwing his head back with laughter, prompting Haru's eyes to open wide. "I do chew a lot of cinnamon gum," Makoto admitted, leaning back down so his face was just inches from Haru's. "I'm glad you like it though. It would be bad if you didn't."_

"He likes cinnamon gum," Makoto told his father, and he could have sworn that his father was smirking.

"Mako-chan's rubbing off on him," Mrs. Tachibana chimed in, wearing a smug expression on her face as she eyed Makoto. Makoto blushed and looked down.

Makoto's mother's interjection ended his time on stage, and signaled the start of a new conversation about neighbors and weather and various things she had cooked or fixed around the house, and soon enough, their visiting time was over. Makoto waved goodbye to his father who, despite his earlier energy, was already starting to fall asleep, and exited the building with his family.

On the metro ride home, surrounded by a sea of swaying strangers, Makoto imagined a world where he would someday take Haru to meet his father, and Haru could answer his father's questions in person rather than Makoto answering for him. He hoped that eventually, Haru would become a part of his family too, or at least a part of their lives in some way or another. He wanted so badly for his father not to be dying and to be able to afford an apartment of his own to invite Haru to, but all he had was a house with his mom and younger siblings and a dad in the hospital with lung cancer. Makoto sighed. Where "someday" filled others with joy, it only filled Makoto with pain, so he dismissed it and retrained his focus on the present-because right then and there, his father was alive, and everything was just alright.

* * *

Sousuke sat at his desk, organizing the files of past cases that he solved, when he heard a light tap at the slightly ajar door to his office. He looked up. His stomach began to churn when he saw the police uniform and red hair.

"Hey," Rin said, leaning against the frame of the doorway. "I brought you coffee." He lifted the cup up as proof, almost as a peace offering.

Sousuke looked back down at his files. He coughed indifferently, avoiding eye contact with Rin. Out of the corner of his eye he saw him walk forward and place the coffee on the desk.

Rin stood for a second, watching Sousuke reading and sifting through papers. He knew him too well to believe that he was actually working. Sousuke would always pretend to be busy to avoid Rin after a fight. Realizing that he wouldn't talk to him without some coaxing, Rin pulled up a chair and sat down in it, facing Sousuke. Sousuke paused his sifting for a second, taking a look at Rin sitting opposite him. Just the sight of him reopened the wound of the anger and hurt.

Rin calmly gestured towards the coffee with his hand. "I made sure to get you black," he offered.

Sousuke blinked.  _Is that what he calls an apology?_  He sniffed and looked at Rin. He had noticed that for the past week or so after the bowling incident, Rin hadn't been wearing his hair in a ponytail, but at the moment, his messy red locks were back to being pulled behind the nape of his neck by a black hairband. Rin's eyes were watching Sousuke expectantly, with a genuine look of attempting to make amends. Despite still being angry, Sousuke began to soften a little bit, and begrudgingly reached over his desk to pick up the coffee.

Rin smiled. He watched Sousuke reluctantly take a sip, internally grimacing as he imagined drinking that black liquid. Sousuke swallowed quickly and set the cup down, getting back to his organizing of files. He was carefully avoiding Rin's gaze.

"So," Rin said, trying to lessen the tension further. "Any good cases lately?"

Sousuke looked up again, a half amused, half annoyed expression on his face.  _This moron is trying so hard_ , he thought, almost laughing out loud. He sighed, and sat up straighter, setting down the files in his hands. "Not really," he admitted. "Most of them have been pretty easy to solve, nothing really out of the ordinary."

Rin nodded slightly, running a hand through his hair. "What about the serial arsonist? I haven't heard mention of them in a while."

Sousuke immediately looked more interested at the mention of the serial arsonist. "Well, no, there's been no report of them recently," he attested, taking another sip of coffee, "but that's what makes it so intriguing."

Leaning back against the chair, Rin watched as Sousuke's whole body language changed as he began to talk of the serial arsonist. Before, he was irritated and closed off, but at the mention of his obsession, he immediately became more responsive and open. When it came to investigating, Sousuke was in his element. He noticed things that no one else did and had the determination to go to the ends of the earth to solve it.

Sousuke leaned forward in his chair. "See, we haven't seen anything from the serial arsonist in almost a month," he recounted, beginning to get more into the conversation. "They had been pretty frequent up until then, with five different fires within the span of three weeks, plus a sixth one at the dock. So something must have happened to make them stop."

He paused, and suddenly smiled widely. Rin furrowed his brow slightly. He hated it when Sousuke had a sudden break-through in a case and smiled that smile. That was the smile of justice, but the most terrifying justice that could possibly exist.

"What?" Rin asked, not wanting to be left out of the loop.

"Of course," Sousuke breathed, his eyes flickering, calculating something in his head. "The arsonist isn't doing it for kicks. If they were, they probably wouldn't have had a reason to stop cold. So we know they have a clear motive." He began tapping his finger on his desk excitedly, focusing his eyes on the wall. "They can't be doing this to prove a point. If they were, they would've publicized it more, making it obvious what they were trying to say. There aren't any political affiliations with any of the buildings, and if there were, they would be trying to expose themselves more. No-someone making a statement would want to be in the limelight, but the arsonist wants to stay in the shadows." He scratched his chin. "They're too methodical and… well,  _moral_  to be doing it out of anger or revenge. It seems like they're doing it for personal gain, but not in money or material. There's something they get out of lighting these fires, something emotional or spiritual." He smiled. "And they must have gotten what they needed, and stopped."

Rin raised his eyebrows, impressed. As Gou often reminded him, he had no idea how to read people he saw every day, let alone figure out the motives of a criminal he had never met.

Sousuke sighed and leaned back in his chair, losing his momentary enthusiasm. "Not like that helps us find the arsonist," he said in a monotone. "We need some sort of physical evidence to even begin an official investigation, let alone convict someone."

"But, you at least know what they're after," Rin countered.

Sousuke's turquoise eyes met his, a little muscle in his jaw pulsing. "I guess," he mumbled. He took another sip of his coffee and turned his attention to his papers again.

Watching him, Rin shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Even though Sousuke was speaking with him, he could tell that he had not been forgiven yet, and that he would have to try harder. "Look-" he blurted, causing Sousuke to look up at him again, raising an eyebrow. Rin bit his lip, trying to figure out what to say. "I-" His face reddened in embarrassment at Sousuke regarding him smugly.

Sousuke was enjoying watching Rin flail around helplessly. Neither of them were particularly adept at apologizing or admitting their mistakes, but Rin was impressively terrible at it. He absolutely detested being wrong, or being less. His inability to express his emotions without anger also hindered the effectiveness of an apology. Sousuke may have had difficulty revealing his emotions, but he was able to control his temper better.

In his mind, Sousuke knew how awful Rin must have been feeling to be making that pathetic of a show, and he had forgiven him. But he didn't have to tell Rin that quite yet. It was kind of fun torturing him.

"What?" Sousuke said coldly, using his acting skills. "Spit it out."

Rin bit his lip, turning his head to the side. Why was Sousuke making this more difficult than it needed to be? It wasn't like what he did was  _that_  bad. He huffed in frustration, rubbing his eye.  _He better not expect me to grovel_ , he thought bitterly.

Sousuke bit back a laugh at the sight of Rin squirming with discomfort.  _You brought this on yourself_ , he thought gleefully. He knew how difficult it was for Rin to say the words "I'm sorry", but this was just sad.

Rin folded his arms and looked at the ground, an angry tint in his cheeks. "Look, I'm sorry for being a prick," he mumbled to the floor. He looked up at Sousuke, a fierce expression on his face. "Are you happy now?"

Sousuke raised an eyebrow in reply. Rin coughed and rolled his eyes, leaning forward towards Sousuke's desk. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt you, okay?" he said, his eyes glaring assertively at Sousuke's. "I just-" He broke off, his cheeks reddening further. "I don't know how my mom would react if she knew that I'm attracted to men. It's not a conversation I want to have with her. Ever."

Sousuke's facade began to wear down, and he sighed, letting his face soften. "Yeah, I know," he concurred. He, better than most people, understood wanting to be accepted so much that he'd hide his true feelings. "It's okay," he assured Rin, whose eyes widened. Rin hadn't expected Sousuke to forgive quite so quickly, but was disconcerted by the somber look in his friend's face. They looked at each other for a moment, before Rin coughed loudly and stood up.

"Well, I should probably get back to work," he said awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

Sousuke nodded. "Yeah, me too."

Rin smiled slightly and turned around to leave. He had just reached the door when he heard Sousuke call out, "Oh, Rin?"

He turned back to face Sousuke, eyebrows raised questioningly. "What?"

"Thanks for the coffee," Sousuke said, the ends of his mouth twitching up slightly.

Rin nodded mutely and continued on his way. As he walked down the hallway, he noticed a strange, fiery warmth filling his chest.  _Damn heartburn,_ Rin thought.  _I'm not even fucking thirty._


	9. Comfort of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weather decides to be temperamental, and Makoto ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

"Ah, Haru, I'm so sorry! I should have checked the weather forecast earlier-those clouds came out of nowhere!" Makoto shrugged out of his hoodie and held it over Haru's head like a tent to shield him from the rain. "Here," he said, voice shaking a bit as his teeth began to chatter.

Haru glanced up at the fabric covering his head, steadily growing darker as raindrops bled through. "But I'm already wet," Haru said bluntly. It was true-his dark bangs were plastered to his forehead, trickling tiny rivers of water into the shells of his eyes and down the contours of his cheeks. His sweatshirt was clinging closer to his body by the minute. "And won't you be cold?" he added.

Makoto laughed, a bit embarrassed by Haru's observations. "No, not really…" When Haru turned to him, flicking his eyes over Makoto's dripping wet skin, covered in goosebumps, Makoto admitted, "Well, maybe it's a little cold," which seemed to satisfy Haru's disapproving glare for the moment. Makoto sighed.

Earlier that day, Makoto had gotten the bright idea to take Haru to a local park after his shift at the fish market was over. The weather had been beautiful enough that morning inspire such a thought, and the decision was too spur-of-the-moment to allow for much planning. Makoto didn't know when such an opportunity would next present itself, and was so excited for the prospect of sitting with Haru under a canopy of cherry blossoms, that he didn't imagine something like a massive downpour could ruin their plans. Naturally, though, after about half an hour of watching koi swim in a pond, (or rather, Makoto watching Haru watch koi swim in a pond), the sky had decided that their time was up.

The charcoal grey sky flashed bright white and Makoto jumped, startled. His hands jerked forward, hitting the back of Haru's head with a dull "thud".

"Ah, sorry!" Makoto stammered, about to retract his hands when icy fingers wrapped around one of his wrists. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Makoto," Haru said, ceasing his walking to speak. "You don't need to hold out your jacket for me."

A distant roll of thunder rang out through the air, putting Makoto at unease. He dropped his hoodie away from Haru, exposing the man to the onslaught of rain around them. Haru simply flipped his hair out of his eyes and looked up at the dismal sky, letting the water fall directly onto his face, even parting his lips and welcoming it into his mouth. As one part of Makoto panicked, fretting over Haru catching a cold or simply just  _being_ cold, the other parts scoffed at his worry, remembering exactly who he was with.  _Oh, Haru,_ Makoto thought as he shook his head, chuckling.  _Just can't stay away from the water…_

Another flash of lightning snapped Makoto out of his contented daze, shocking him back into shivers and anxious thoughts. He snatched Haru's hand, lacing needy fingers through numb ones. Makoto cringed at how cold Haru's skin was-he wasn't even shivering, as if his body had no natural instinct to keep warm.

"Come on, Haru," Makoto urged, tugging Haru into a light jog. "My house is just a few blocks from here. We can stay there until the storm passes over." Haru didn't react, eyes trailing glazed over the horizon, but he still ran, and Makoto took that as a sign of no objections.

Makoto's stomach twisted gradually as he and Haru wove through the streets, splashing through puddles, and slipping in and out of warm pools of light casted by streetlamps and shop windows. They sky was dimming, save for intermittent flashes of white, and the pelt of water on the pavement drummed up a characteristic rhythm. His house was the first place that popped into Makoto's mind as a place to wait out the storm, and he had let the thought spill out almost immediately, not taking time to think it through. Maybe it was the cold, or the warmth he felt watching Haru bask in the rain, that made him forget that his home was a place Haru was never supposed to go.  _I'll have to think a way to explain things…_ he thought nervously. Makoto was glad that it was raining so that Haru couldn't feel his palms sweating.

Things with Haru had been simple and smooth, though deep and wonderful at the same time. They had managed to strike the perfect balance of light and heavy-not delving too far into each other's details, but learning things as they came up instead, and building an unspoken understanding that was like nothing Makoto had ever experienced before. He had only known the connection for a little over a month, but he had already fallen in love with it; and his attachment to the man at the other end grew stronger each day. Makoto was all too aware that if he involved Haru in his family life, things would change, and that was the last thing he wanted. He didn't want the connection to break.

Soon, Makoto and Haru stood on Makoto's doorstep, Makoto anxiously assessing Haru as Haru scanned the front of the house up and down, eyes flitting from door to window to roof and back again. The Tachibana's house was small-just enough to fit five members-but Makoto had never really thought about its size until someone else was gauging it. He liked it-nice and cozy, especially with one of his parents missing. It had been the only atmosphere Makoto had ever really known. After a short minute, Mrs. Tachibana opened the door, bringing with her a welcome flood of light and warmth.

"Makoto, what are you-oh." Her eyes landed on Haru, and Makoto could tell that she was fighting back a smile.

"Um, sorry," Makoto started. He gestured from his mother to Haru. "Mom, this is Haru. Haru, this is my mother." The words came out stifled, pushed out through too-tight lips. Makoto never imagined he would be introducing his adult boyfriend to his mother at his mother's house which he was living at at the age of twenty-five. He imagined that the first time he took someone home, it would be to his own apartment, that he lived in by himself.

"Nice to meet you, Haru," Mrs. Tachibana said, extending a hand to Haru who tentatively took it.

"It's nice to meet you," Haru said softly, allowing his hand to be shaken up and down. Haru's eyes were trained on the clasped hands, and Makoto's mother's were trained on his lowered lids. She didn't seem disheartened by the lack of eye contact, and chuckled instead. Makoto held his breath as he watched the interaction. He knew how uncomfortable Haru felt around people, and he didn't want Haru to feel overwhelmed. After all, he hadn't even met the twins yet.

"Okay, Mom," Makoto interjected, breaking off the handshake. He turned to Haru and flashed a reassuring smile, noting how Haru's shoulders sank with relief at the lapse in contact. Makoto turned back to his mother with an apologetic look and motioned to he and Haru's dripping clothes, receiving an assertive nod in return. " _I'll get towels,"_ Mrs. Tachibana mouthed before heading back inside, leaving the two alone with the pitter patter of rain on the awning above them.

After a few moments of watching Haru tug at the wet fabric clinging to his arms, Makoto began to feel incredibly uncomfortable. He had never felt...bad, exactly, in a social situation, but he guessed there was a first for everything. He needed to break the smothering tension he was sure only existed in his head, and soon enough, his thoughts materialized as words faster than he could control.

"I'm really sorry, Haru," he stammered, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck as he spoke. "We could have gone to a shop or a restaurant and stayed there-that probably would have been better. I know you don't really feel comfortable with things like this… I could get an umbrella and take you somewhere else… You probably weren't expecting to meet my family, were you… I'm sor-"

The front door opened, flooding the small porch with golden light. Mrs. Tachibana held out two towels which Makoto took, handing one to Haru. He saw Haru had his mouth parted in an unrealized reply, but resumed his usual look of impassivity as he took to toweling excess water off his clothing. Makoto replayed his own words in his head and grimaced at them. He was supposed to be making Haru more comfortable, not creating even more anxiety for him. He felt the need to apologize again, but he knew that saying anything else was probably a bad idea.

"Haru, what would you like to eat?" Mrs. Tachibana asked when they finished drying off. They followed her inside and she shut the door, dampening the sound of the rain behind them. She walked into the kitchen. "I'm just about to cook dinner."

Haru's eyes grew wide at the inquiry, and Makoto instinctively took his hand, tossing aside his own cares, and effectively dissipating the tension that had overcome the other. It was the least he could do, but released after a brief moment, instead leaning into Haru and lowering his voice. "You would like mackerel, right? I think we still have some…"

"Yes," Haru replied immediately, voice loud enough to reach the kitchen. Makoto laughed.

"Hmm?" Mrs. Tachibana hummed, poking her head out to look at Haru.

"Could you cook the rest of the mackerel?" Makoto asked, as Haru had fallen silent once again after his short outburst. "It's Haru's favorite." Mrs. Tachibana nodded, smiling.

"Sure, I'll set it out. Now you two should go put on some dry clothes. I'll call you when dinner's ready." She disappeared back into the kitchen.

"It's a good thing the twins like mackerel," Makoto laughed after his mother left. "Otherwise I'd probably have to go out in the pouring rain to find some for you." He jokingly nudged Haru in the shoulder, but Haru remained rigid as he turned up his face to give Makoto a penetrating look.

"Twins?"

"Oh…" Makoto's smile vanished, and he was reminded once again of the painful knots in the pit of his stomach. He had forgotten how little he had told Haru about his family, and just how unusual his living with his whole family must have seemed in the first place. Such a casual statement had just slipped out, and Makoto accredited it to Haru being so easy to talk to. He often took their connection so much for granted that he forgot it occasionally had holes.

"Yeah," Makoto continued, bridging the gap. "I have two younger siblings and they're twins. They like mackerel too, so we usually have some around."

"Oh," Haru responded, tugging at the towel draped over his shoulders. As usual, he didn't press any further. Makoto sighed.

"Come on," he said, taking Haru's hand and leading him towards the stairs. "You can borrow some of my clothes."

They proceeded up the stairs, walking through the hallway of family photos and keepsakes like a minefield-the further they walked, and the quieter Haru became, the more fearful Makoto became of something blowing up in his face and sending Haru flying out the door.  _Everything is going fine,_ he kept repeating in his mind.  _Haru is still here._ His eyes scanned the steps and walls and eventually his room for stray clues that would link Haru into the truth, and every smiling picture of his family seemed to be screaming Haru's name. If Makoto was lucky, Haru would never ask why things were the way they were-Makoto living at home with no father in sight-and Makoto would never have to tell him.

It wasn't that Makoto  _wanted_ to keep Haru in the dark. He really, genuinely wanted to be able to be honest with Haru, and tell him everything. It was just that people didn't tend to take lightly to getting tangled up in a mess of hospitals and eventual funerals. Makoto didn't want Haru to get scared and decide he would be better off without excess family drama, but he didn't want him to stay out of obligation either.

Once in the bedroom, Makoto selected a yellow and orange short-sleeve shirt and black sweat pants with a drawstring waist, as he was sure Haru would need it considering their size difference. He folded the clothes neatly and handed them to Haru in a pile, which Haru took tentatively.

"Here, you can have these," Makoto said, a bit sheepishly. "Sorry if they're too big…" Haru simply stared at the fabric, so Makoto turned around to get his own clothes. When he looked back, Haru had already dropped his wet shirt on the floor and was starting to unbutton his pants.

"H-Haru!" Makoto exclaimed, gaping at half-naked man. He clamped his mouth shut quickly and averted his gaze, realizing that he was staring. A hot flush raced to his cheeks.

"What?" Haru asked, monotone, seemingly oblivious to what had prompted Makoto's surprise.

"Um…" Makoto met Haru's eyes, trying not to let his shock leak through, and offered a small smile. It wasn't as if Haru was doing anything inherently wrong, it was just that Makoto hadn't been expecting him to change so freely. He had seen Haru in a swimsuit before, so it wasn't like he would be revealing anything new, but it just felt  _different_ at his house, in his  _room_."Nothing, I'll just go change in the bathroom."

A few minutes later, both Haru and Makoto had changed, and were heading back downstairs to eat. Makoto followed behind Haru as they walked, Haru having traveled the route before, and he found himself having to keep ripping his gaze away from Haru's back to keep from getting sucked in. The temperature in his cheeks rose dramatically each time his eyes landed on the swaying fabric of the loose shirt, hanging perfectly from Haru's delicate frame, or the elastic band of the sweatpants, sitting low on Haru's hips. Seeing Haru in his own clothes only gave Makoto another thing to be anxious about: acting inappropriately in front of his family.

The smell of cooked fish wafted out of the kitchen, and Makoto observed Haru's face perking up, enticed by the familiar odor. Personally, Makoto was never fond of it, but he was by all means used to it. He laughed as Haru sped up his strides towards the kitchen.

When they reached the dining area, Makoto picked up the end of what sounded like Ran's speech. "...one from the fish market?" His sister's voice rung in the air as footfalls ceased, and soon enough, she had poked her head out of the kitchen, Ren leaning over her shoulder.

"Hi, guys," Makoto said, waving. His siblings didn't meet his eyes as he spoke though, as they were too enraptured with the newcomer standing at Makoto's side. Makoto shook his head, sighing. He knew that feeling of fascination all too well, and although he had known Haru for over a month already, the intense gravity of Haru's presence had never dulled. "This is Haru. Haru, this is Ren and Ran."

"Nice to meet you," Haru said after a moment, speaking timidly to his expectant audience. Ren slowly stepped out from behind Ran and approached Haru, Ran quickly catching up and elbowing her way in front of him. Makoto was fairly certain he heard Haru's breath hitch in his throat, not certain of how to react. Not wanting to aid in Haru's discomfort, Makoto hooked and finger onto Haru's wrist and gently glided in front of him, putting Haru out of harm's way. Makoto took a step forward and ushered the twins back into the kitchen.

"You should help Mom finish cooking," Makoto whispered to them so Haru couldn't hear. "And try to make Haru comfortable, okay? Yes, he's the one from the fish market, Ran. And he gets nervous around people he doesn't really know yet, so don't stare too much." Makoto nearly rolled his eyes at his last instruction, considering how he violated it at almost every chance he got. But it seemed like the right thing to say, and discouraging the staring at least somewhat made Makoto feel less anxious himself. The words seemed to simply glaze over the twins' eyes, clearly not registering, as they proceeded to pelt Makoto with hushed statements of their own.

"What's he doing here?" Ren asked, where Ran opted for the more direct and frenzied, "Is this part of your date? His eyes are really blue. I only saw them for a second, but they're  _really_ blue. Is he spending the night? You're not going to-"

"Shhh!" Makoto cut them off, placing hands over both of their mouths. His heart was beating rapidly, trying to keep up with stream of increasingly personal questions. "Just go help cook!"

Ren and Ran both sighed before joining their mother at the sink, and Makoto went back out to see Haru. At the far window of the room, bright sapphires twinkled as they took in the stormy night sky, following raindrops as they slid down the glass surface. Almost instantly, Makoto found himself sucked back into Haru's gravity, mindlessly walking to his side and tangling their fingers together, pressing a light kiss to the crown of his head as if he wasn't a ball of nerves and embarrassment. Haru tightened his fingers, knitting himself deeper into the hold, but otherwise didn't react. It felt like a relief to be alone with Haru once again, engaging in an activity as simple as watching the rain. Makoto smiled, following the few blissful moments, before biting his lip.

"I'm sorry about Ren and Ran," he said with a furrowed brow, losing his footing in the easy, tranquil world once again. "I know they were staring, but they're honestly just curious. They've never-"

"Makoto."

"Hmm?"

"Stop apologizing."

Makoto's mouth was caught open, and he forced it closed to take in Haru's words. Haru could sometimes be blunt in his statements, but he was generally never so forward with them, and commands were almost unheard of.

Blue gems split from the rain to bore into emerald. "You don't have to apologize for everything when there's nothing to apologize for."

Makoto blinked, and before he could even think of responding, his family was joining them in the dining room, food and dishes in tow. Interlocked fingers unwove, gazes softened, and soon, Makoto's ears were filled with the sound of something other than rushing blood and Haru's piercing voice.

"Dinner's ready!" Mrs. Tachibana announced, carrying plates and bowls that steamed with the scent of rice and grilled mackerel. Ren and Ran followed her with chopsticks and napkins. As Ran approached Makoto and Haru by the window, setting the table, she shot Makoto a knowing look and winked.

"Ran…" Makoto snapped, whispering as she giggled. "You-"

"Huh?" Haru asked, oblivious to the antics. Makoto sighed, shaking his head.

"Nothing," he grumbled.

"Haru, feel free to take a seat!" Mrs. Tachibana offered as she rounded the table, gesturing to the cushion nearest him.

"Yeah, you can sit by Mako-chan!" Ran said, giving Makoto a nudge.

"Drop the -chan," Makoto hissed. Haru smirked, and Makoto could tell he was laughing.  _This is going to be a long night,_ Makoto thought, taking his seat. Haru sat down next to him and watched Mrs. Tachibana intently, clearly waiting for a plate of mackerel to be set down in front of him. When it finally was, Haru courteously waited for everyone else to sit before digging in.

A few silent minutes into the meal, Mrs. Tachibana laughed. "You must be pretty hungry, Haru. Did Makoto not feed you while you were out?"

Haru paused in the middle of chewing a mouthful of rice and shot Makoto a nervous look before swallowing. "Um, no, I just like mackerel. It's… very good. Thank you."

"Oh, you're welcome," Mrs. Tachibana replied. "Makoto told us that you work at the mackerel stand at the fish market, so you must like it then."

Haru nodded. "Yes." Mrs. Tachibana seemed to be waiting for him to elaborate, but Haru just returned to his food. Makoto grimaced.  _Of course she would want to ask him twenty questions…_

"Mrow!"

A bright meow broke through the silence and soon enough, a slinking black and white body and swishing tail entered the room, capturing the attention of everyone at the table. Makoto smiled at his feline savior, shifting the attention off of Haru who clearly wanted to eat his mackerel in peace. Mrs. Tachibana twisted around to sigh as the cat slunk over to the nearest person who might pet him. That person just happened to be Haru.

"Oh, I forgot to feed Yato," Mrs. Tachibana explained. She shook her head in disapproval and started to stand up. "I'm sorry, Haru. I'll get him out of-oh. Well, it looks like you've made a new friend there. Makoto didn't mention that you liked cats."

_I didn't know,_ Makoto silently mouthed at his mother when she shot him a disappointed glare. It wasn't as if a fondness for cats came up in conversation that often, and he never would have thought to ask. In retrospect, Haru did seem like the type to be a cat person.

Yato was nuzzling the back of Haru's hand which Haru had generously extended to the cat, setting his chopsticks down with his unfinished food. Haru seemed enthralled as the cat brushed up against him and mewed, and Makoto laughed. He didn't think it was possible for Haru to be any cuter, but alas, he was wrong.

"Yato really likes you," Ren commented, leaning out from his seat to watch the interaction.

"Yeah, almost as much as Mako-chan," Ran added, which earned her an angry glare. She shrugged, unfazed, knowing that's all she would get from Makoto with his boyfriend in the room. Thankfully for Makoto, Haru was too involved with the cat to notice the unwelcome comment.

"Yato?" Haru asked, peering intently at the cat. "Is that your name?" Yato mewed, digging his nose into Haru palm and purring loudly when Haru stroked his back. The vocalization seemed to satisfy Haru, and Haru faintly smiled, making Makoto's heart melt. It was rare that Makoto saw Haru  _or_ Yato so happy, and it looked as if they had each found their new best friend. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Alright, alright," Mrs. Tachibana said, chuckling. "We should finish eating. The food's getting cold."

The possibility of cold mackerel seemed to prove more powerful than Haru's kinsmanship with the cat, as he quickly dropped his hand and returned to eating. There wasn't much more conversation until the meal was over, and everyone sat around the table, stomachs full with fish and rice.

"Well, Haru," Mrs. Tachibana started, folding her hands in her lap. "We're glad to have you here. It's nice to have a full table again. Ever since Makoto's dad-"

"Mom!" Makoto's eyes flew wide with panic, as he knew what she was going to say next. It was the very thing he had been trying so hard to keep Haru from finding out all night, and he wasn't about to spoil his work with an offhand comment on his mother's behalf.

Mrs. Tachibana gasped, and seemed offended by Makoto's interjection. "What's that for?"

"Mom…" Makoto pleaded, shooting her daggers with his eyes. He felt a nervous sweat break out over his skin, and he felt Haru staring at him in the seat next to him. Mrs. Tachibana looked back at him, detecting the urgency in his voice, but not getting the message.

"Okay…" Mrs. Tachibana continued hesitantly. She shook her head, picking up her speech where she had left off. "As I was saying, Haru, we haven't had a full table here for about four yea-"

"Mom!" Makoto shot up out of his seat, trembling with anxiety. This wasn't how Haru was supposed to find out. He was supposed to find out months from then, when Makoto's father was either magically cured or the situation had gotten to the point where Makoto couldn't hide it any longer. "I-I…" He glanced down at the confused stares of everyone on the floor around him. He sighed. "I hadn't told him yet."

"Oh." Mrs. Tachibana glanced down at her hands. "That's fine, then."

"What's fine?"

Makoto looked down to face Haru, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. It wasn't exactly confused or irritated, but maybe a little bit hurt? Either way, Makoto felt compelled to say something, even if it wasn't what he wanted. Haru was going to find out eventually, and Makoto didn't really desire a relationship in which both parties were aware of keeping secrets. Makoto slowly lowered himself back into a sitting position and stared at the empty plate in front of him.

"Four years ago, my dad was diagnosed with stage three lung cancer. It's nearing stage four now, and he's terminal."

A heavy silence fell over the room, and Makoto couldn't bring himself to watch Haru process his words. He cursed himself for ever thinking he could get through the evening without Haru finding out one way or another.  _This is too much,_ Makoto thought, gritting his teeth.  _He's not going to want to get involved. He's not going to want to stick around. Yep, I was right, he's not saying anything. He's probably wondering why he agreed to date me in the first place. Maybe he's hurt that I didn't tell him… He could have broken things off if he knew earlier…_

"Gosh, Mako-chan, you don't have to be so grim about it."

Makoto snapped his eyes up to look at Ran, who had crossed her arms and wore a disapproving look on her face. "You're acting like Dad's already dead."

"Ran!" Mrs. Tachibana scolded, glaring at her daughter across the table.

"What? It's true," Ran defended. "Mako-chan acted like he was telling Haru that  _he_ had cancer. If we're all fine with it, then why do we have to make a big deal out of it to Haru?"

"That's Makoto's decision-not yours." Mrs. Tachibana sighed. She stood up from the table and picked up her dishes, gesturing for Ren and Ran to do the same. "Ren, Ran, clean up. And Ran, after you're finished, go feed Yato."

Ran huffed in irritation, but she and Ren both complied, going around and clearing the table, awkwardly swiping dishes from Haru's and Makoto's places before carrying them into the kitchen. Soon, Haru and Makoto were left alone, simply sitting, neither initiating conversation or looking up from the empty table. The anticipation of what Haru might say or do was eating Makoto from the inside out, but he didn't want to speak up for fear of making things worse.  _Maybe I am making too big of a deal out of this,_ he thought as the seconds ticked by.  _Maybe Ran's right._

"It's fine with me," Haru finally said, voice barely loud enough to hear. He gained volume as he continued. "If it's fine with you, then it's fine with me."

Makoto snapped his head up, looking at Haru with disbelief in the simplicity of his answer. "Really?" he breathed.

Haru nodded. "Yes."

Relief washed over Makoto in a welcome wave. He smiled. "Thanks, Haru. But…" He furrowed his brow, pushing past the initial relief to remember other worries.  _Is he just feeling obligated to say it's okay? Has he not thought things through all the way? Will he look at me differently? Will we change?_

"But what?" Haru asked. "I said it's fine." Haru huffed and crossed his arms, obviously irritated that his answer wasn't sinking in.

"You're not… upset that I didn't tell you?"

Haru shook his head. "You shouldn't feel pressured to tell me things you're not ready to." He looked back down at his hands and picked at a nail. "I respect your privacy."

"You're not worried that things will… change? Because of it?" Makoto anxiously pulled at the hem of his shirt, running his fingers along the stitching. Somehow, watching Haru idly busy himself with a nail made him feel restless, and he needed something to do with his hands.

Ceasing movement, Haru turned to Makoto with a look of utter confusion. "Why would things change?" He scoffed and returned to his fingers, clenching and spreading them, and then searching for pockets to stick them into. He trailed his hands along the sides of his borrowed pants, rubbing into folds of fabric in the hopes of finding an opening. Makoto watched him until he couldn't take anymore and reached out to grab Haru's wrists, guiding them down and into the proper holes.

"Sorry, the pockets are kind of lower on those pants," Makoto explained, "especially since you're shorter…" Haru seemed satisfied enough, having found what he was searching for, but he still gave Makoto an odd look. Makoto remembered what they had been discussing before the pockets became an issue, and jolted back into conversation. "I don't know if things would change, but I don't know if me having a sick dad would make you worry or feel like you have to support me-which you don't-and I just want to make you happy, I don't want to cause you any trouble and-"

"Makoto."

"Yeah?"

"Your hands."

Makoto followed Haru's gaze down to his lap and realized that he was still gripping Haru's wrists inside the pockets. He had just gotten so caught up in explanations that he had forgotten to release them. "Oh! S-Sorry! I didn't realize I was still holding on." He unclasped his fingers and retracted his arms, leaning back into his own seat. "It's just, I really don't want to be a burden to you," he continued, not even paying attention to whether Haru was listening or not. "I want you to be okay with things because it's your choice, and I don't want you to choose things just because it's what you think you should do-"

"Makoto!"

Makoto's words caught in his throat, cut off by blazing blue eyes and the force with which Haru said his name. He blanched at the sight of Haru so passionate, especially since he couldn't recall a time when he had seen Haru genuinely mad.

"I told you it's fine with me," Haru repeated, voice icy and molten at the same time. "If your dad has had cancer all this time, then why should it change things now? And why would I feel obligated to support you? I care about you because I want to, and because you care about me. You'll never be a burden to me because I want to be around you, and that's not going to change because your dad has cancer." Haru paused, panting a bit from such a grand expulsion of words. Makoto stared at him in awe, and when Haru took the time to notice, he curled back his lip in a snarl and turned away. "Now will you please shut up and stop telling me what I want?"

"Haru…" Relief crashed over Makoto once again, but this time, it wasn't false. It was rooted in a new sense of permanence and security that finally put all of Makoto's doubts at bay. Before he knew it, he was crushing Haru in a hug and burying his face in his hair. "Thank you, Haru-chan."

"Drop the -chan," Haru muttered, letting his face fall into Makoto's shoulder. Makoto chuckled and pulled Haru tighter. Haru just fit so perfectly in his arms that it was hard for him to imagine why he had so many doubts in the first place. He had been worried that Haru would have turned out like everyone else who knew about his father, slowly distancing themselves and treating him like a fragile object instead of a human being. Conversation would dull into routine, one-sided checkups, and everything would be shrouded in the veil of illness. But with Haru, things were different. Haru had never been like everyone else to begin with.

"Oh, am I interrupting something?"

Makoto gasped and dropped his arms from around Haru's back when he noticed Ran in the kitchen doorway, taking in the scene in front of her. She laughed.

"H-How long have you been there?" Makoto asked.

Ran opened her mouth to answer, most likely with some snarky comment about Makoto and his  _boyfriend_ , but thankfully decided against it when Mrs. Tachibana entered the room. She motioned to the window.

"Well, I thought the storm would have let up by now, but it looks like it's still pouring hard out there. The reports say that it should continue for another couple hours or so." She looked at Haru and Makoto. "Haru, you're welcome to stay the night if you need to. It's already 9:15, and I don't want you to have to head home so late. You could stay in Makoto's room."

From behind her mother, Ran caught Makoto's eye and raised her brows mischieviously. She mouthed the word "bedroom" and Makoto had to bite his tongue to keep from scolding her. He guessed he wasn't saved from her snark after all.

"Oh," Haru replied. He glanced at Makoto, as if for permission, and Makoto decided it would be best if he took over.

"Do you need to get home to Rei and Nagisa tonight?" Makoto asked. Haru shook his head. "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to. I could always walk you home when the storm lets up."

Haru shook his head again. "You don't need to do that."

"It's really not that big of a deal. I don't have to go into work until noon tomorrow anyways, so I can sleep in if we're out late."

"Actually," Mrs. Tachibana piped in, "I really think it would be safer if both of you stayed in for the night. Is that alright, Haru? I don't want you getting caught if another storm hits."

Makoto sighed. Even after going to college and then working a job of his own, his mother had never stopped being motherly. Naturally, she couldn't resist fretting over a guest, but Makoto wished she could restrain herself sometimes. Haru could make his own decisions.

"Okay," Haru said quietly. Makoto studied his face for any signs he wanted something else.

"Are you sure?" he asked for good measure.

"Yes." Haru turned to look Makoto in the eye, glaring out from beneath his bangs. "I want to."

"Well that settles it then!" Mrs. Tachibana chirped, putting her hands on her hips. "Now, Makoto, make sure Haru is comfortable, and Haru, make yourself at home."

"Yeah, okay, that's enough," Makoto mumbled, pulling himself to his feet and waiting for Haru to follow before leaving the table as quickly as possible. "Thanks for dinner," he added on his way out. Mrs. Tachibana simply laughed and rolled her eyes, giving Makoto a knowing look, and making him want to leave all the sooner. Haru gave a slight nod and hurried behind Makoto into the main room before the stairs.

"Ah, sorry about my mom, Haru," Makoto apologized once they were out of earshot of his family. "She can be a little bit overbearing, but it's just because she cares a lot."

"Makoto?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't need to apologize for your family." Haru still had his hands in the pants' pockets, and Makoto observed him hiking up the fabric with his fingers so they sat higher on his legs. "They're nice."

Makoto laughed, replaying Ran's relentless teasing in his head. "I guess so, but-"

"Mrow!"

Yato jumped onto the chair next to Haru and sat down, looking at his hand pointedly. When Haru began stroking him, Yato immediately started to purr, closing his eyes in the ecstasy of being pet. Makoto almost felt a pang of jealousy, watching Haru take so quickly to the cat, but he was simply happy to see Haru happy. He hadn't envisioned the day in which Haru would be standing in his living room, smiling and petting his cat, but he was glad that it came anyways.

"I really never knew you liked cats so much," Makoto commented as Haru scratched the top of Yato's head. "But I guess they like you too, then."

Haru remained silent, content to simply interact with the feline on his own. Makoto could have watched him pet the cat all night, but he didn't want to risk another encounter with his family members, and staying in the living room increased the probability of that happening. He let a couple minutes pass before speaking up again. "Are you ready to head upstairs?"

Haru dropped his hand from Yato's chin and nodded. Makoto led the way up to his room, occasionally looking back to make sure Haru was coming, and found Haru quietly examining the space around him, more so than he had initially upon entering the house. Makoto wondered if it was because Haru was missing a crucial piece of information about his family the first time.

Shutting the door behind them, Makoto sighed.  _I made it through dinner,_ he thought, relieved. But… He took one look at the man standing in the middle of his room and tensed.  _What now?_

"Makoto?"

Makoto jumped a bit when Haru said his name. "Yeah?"

"Are those yours?" Makoto noticed Haru had extended a finger toward his nightstand, where his reading glasses were sitting.

"Oh, yeah," Makoto replied, walking over to the stand to pick the glasses up and hand them to Haru, who took them tentatively, carefully turning them over in his fingers. "My eyesight's fine, really, but sometimes stuff can get a little blurry up close. Ah, here." Makoto took the glasses from Haru and lifted them up, slipping them back over Haru's ears. "See? They're not that different."

Reaching up to feel the frames, Haru blinked a few times, adjusting to the change in vision. He took a slow step forward to look at himself in the bedroom mirror. Noticing him wobble a bit as he shifted his weight, Makoto reached out to place a hand on Haru's shoulder and steady him. He chuckled at Haru's wide eyes, amplified in intensity by the clear lenses, peering so intently at his reflection in the mirror.

"I guess they would take some getting used to if you have perfect vision," Makoto added with a smile. "But you look very cute, Haru-chan."

Haru's eyes flicked up to meet Makoto's in the mirror before he spun around and removed the glasses from his own face, placing them on Makoto's instead. He stood back to admire his handiwork."They look better on you."

Makoto would have countered with, "I doubt that," or, "You're just fooling yourself," but Haru was already walking away to explore the rest of the room, leaving Makoto with an incurable blush on his cheeks and unspoken feelings stirring in his chest. His bashfulness only amplified when he realized Haru had stopped wandering and was staring at his bed.

"Makoto?"

"Y-Yes?"

"Where should I sleep?"

It was the very question that Makoto had wanted to avoid upon learning that Haru would be staying the night in his room. His throat constricted and thoughts raced as he fought to come up with a solution to the issue. If it had been anyone other than Haru, Makoto would have just gone to the linen closet and set up a bed on the floor for them, but it wasn't. It was Haru, his  _boyfriend_ , and it felt like a bed on the floor wouldn't just be strange, but it would also be rude. He felt like Haru deserved something a little nicer, and it probably wouldn't be too forward to offer, so… "You can sleep in my bed, if you'd like."

Sitting down on the corner of the mattress, Haru nodded. "Okay," he said softly. Makoto bent down to try to get some sort of read on his expression, as his voice had come out a bit too strangely for Makoto's comfort, but Haru was pulling his old trick of bowing his head until his bangs swept over his eyes, blocking Makoto out. Makoto thought he could detect a faint pinkness in Haru's cheeks, but the light in the room was too dim to be certain.

"Can I take a bath?" Haru asked abruptly, stunning Makoto in his examination.

"Uh-um, yeah, sure," Makoto replied as Haru stood up. Haru seemed to be ready to take a bath right then and there, so Makoto hurriedly guided him out of the bedroom and into the hallway, stopping at the bathroom door."Well, we don't have a bath, but there's a shower. It turns on automatically once you get the water running, and there are towels by the sink."

"Okay," Haru said, letting Makoto open the bathroom door and motion him inside. Haru paused a short second before closing the door behind him. When the sound of the shower running leaked out into the hallway, Makoto returned to his room and fell back on the bed. He ran his hands over his face.  _How did a date at the park turn into_ this _..._

Taking slow, deep breaths and sinking into the mattress beneath him, Makoto attempted to clear his mind of the clouds of stress swirling around it. He forced himself to ignore the fact that Haru was naked and wet some twenty feet away from him down the hall and would be sleeping in his bed in just an hour or so in order to prevent a total freakout. Makoto was already on edge as it was, so any more added factors were sure to result in him making a complete fool of himself and saying or doing something he shouldn't.

After a while, he grew restless just waiting around for Haru to finish showering, and the anticipation of moving on with his night was killing him.  _Blankets, I should go get blankets,_ he decided in an attempt to distract himself. He stood up from the bed and headed back out into the hallway.

The hallway was dark, save for a couple of wall lights faintly illuminating the way to the staircase and other rooms, but it was still light enough for Makoto to make out two faint figures crouched on one side of it. Upon realizing that they were crouched in front of the bathroom door, Makoto froze, creaking on a floorboard, and the twins heads snapped around.

"What are you doing?" Makoto whispered, quickly regaining his wits and dragging them back from the doorway, stepping in front of them to block the door with his body. He stared them down in the most authoritative way he knew possible, and thankfully, it seemed to have the desired effect. Both twins shifted uncomfortably and folded their hands behind their backs before Ren finally spoke up.

"Ran wanted to see if you-"

"Don't act like it was just me!" Ran hissed, elbowing her brother in the ribs. "You wanted to know too."

"Well you said Mako-chan was in there too," Ren accused, "so it's your fault we got caught!"

"Well it's your fault for believing me! And I saw them going together, so I was pretty sure that they were…"

Ran trailed off, seeming to remember that Makoto was right in front of her, listening to the entire conversation. His eyes darted back and forth between the pair as they bickered, trying to process what they were saying. Part of him knew exactly what they were talking about, but the other part resisted the truth. Either way, he couldn't stop himself from asking again.

"What were you  _doing_ out here?"

Ran rolled her eyes in irritation, and Ren took the opportunity to sell her out.

"Ran thought you and Haru were doing stuff in the shower and she made me come with her to listen!"

The words came flying out of Ren's mouth too fast for Ran to stop him, and a look of horror spread over Makoto's face. He gaped at them, unblinking, as his world crumbled down around him and was flooded with the most intense anxiety of the night-even more smothering than the anxiety he felt upon Haru learning about his father. Makoto couldn't decide which was more unsettling: the fact that his younger siblings assumed he and Haru were having sex, or the fact that they wanted to hear it. He didn't even know where to begin in forming a response.

"You can say 'sex', Ren," Ran huffed, turning up her nose at her brother's wording.

"I wasn't going to say that in front of Mako-chan!" Ren defended, face red. "You didn't have to say it either."

"Okay…" Makoto finally said, rubbing a hand back through his hair. He looked at his feet as he spoke, as he was sure that if he faced Ren and Ran directly, he would erode away into a pile of dust at their feet. "Just how long, exactly, have you been  _listening_?"

There was a moment of silence before Ran spoke up again. "Maybe five minutes?"

Ren nodded in confirmation. "We were going to go to bed in a minute or two if it kept being so quiet, but Ran said things would pick up-ow!"

Ran stomped on her brother's foot and shot him a nasty glare. "You can't just say that!" she accused.

"Well you said 'sex'!"

"Stop it!" Makoto finally snapped, the tone in his voice immediately silencing the twins and making their eyes fly wide with fear. "Will you please just-"

"Makoto?"

Makoto blanched at the new voice, and the twins' eyes widened even further, but this time, the fear was replaced with utter awe and fascination. Knowing well that nothing good was about to happen, Makoto spun around to see Haru, standing in the center of the doorway, freshly showered and in...a towel.

"H-Haru!" Makoto yelped, flinching at the sight before him.  _How could things possibly get worse?_ He looked from the twins, to Haru, and back again, trying to figure out what to do. In a moment of sheer panic, Makoto gave into his desire to disappear and jumped into the bathroom with Haru, slamming the door behind him. Once safely on the other side, he leaned back against the door and shut his eyes, breathing heavily.

"I told you it was going to happen eventually," he heard Ran mumble in the hallway.

"You're not going to stay and listen this time, are you?" Ren jabbed.

"I didn't want to  _listen_ , I just wanted to prove to you that they were doing it, that's all," Ran defended, though there was hardly anything redeeming about her motive. Their voices grew fainter as they ventured back to their room, and when Makoto heard a dull "ow!" followed by another slamming door, he knew they were finally gone.

"Makoto?"

"What?!"

Makoto's eyes snapped open at the realization of his own outburst, and he found Haru standing a few feet away from him, apprehensively holding up his hands, as if one misstep would lead to his own injury. Immediately, Makoto flew out of his lean and held up his own hands in an attempt to prove everything was alright. Haru was looking at him as if he were a wild animal, and he couldn't stand it.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Makoto stammered. "I-I was going to get some blankets and then-then the twins, they were right outside, and I tried to get them to go away but...but…"

"Makoto. Calm down." Haru placed both of his hands firmly on Makoto's shoulders and commanded him with a stern face, devoid of any other messages beside the one, simple phrase.  _Calm down._ Slowly, some of Haru's cool stability flowed into Makoto, and he felt himself shifting back into his usual, level-headed persona. He sighed.

"It's been a long night," he explained. Haru nodded, satisfied with the change in behavior, and reached over to the bathroom counter to pick up his discarded clothing. He curled his fingers over the tucked fabric of the towel at his waist and was about to let it drop when Makoto lashed out to stop him, grabbing onto the towel and making sure it stayed up.

"Ah! Um…" Makoto bit his lip and flushed deep red when he realized he had fixed his gaze straight down, right where the pale skin of Haru's stomach disappeared into the cloth below. "I'll just… You can change and meet me back in my room." Not bothering to look Haru in the face, Makoto awkwardly backed out of the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him so as not to cause another disturbance. He ruffled his hands frustratedly through his hair.  _If he had wanted me to calm down, he wouldn't have tried to drop his towel like that…_

Returning to his room after a short stop at the linen closet, Makoto started setting up a bed on the floor. It wasn't the most comfortable arrangement, but it would do. A couple minutes later, Haru quietly slipped into the room, fully clothed, and stood over Makoto as he spread out a blanket into a neat rectangle.

"What's that for?" Haru asked. He was pointing at the makeshift bed, a puzzled expression on his face. Makoto shot him back an expression equally as puzzled, before figuring out what Haru must have meant.  _Oh, he must think he's sleeping on the floor now_.

"Oh, don't worry," Makoto assured him. "You can still sleep in the bed. I wouldn't make you sleep on the floor, especially since you're a guest."

"Okay," Haru said, still eyeing the linens on the floor suspiciously as he stepped around them to take a seat on the bed. "Then why are you setting up a bed there?"

"Oh, because I needed a place to sleep for the night, since you're going to be staying in my bed. I mean, it's no big deal-I can kind of sleep anywhere."

"Oh."

Makoto finished smoothing out the blankets and stood up, twisting to crack his back that was stiff from crouching over on the he turned around to face the bed, Haru was sitting dejectedly on the far corner, staring down at his hands that he had stuffed into the pockets of his borrowed sweatpants.

"Haru?" Makoto asked, easing onto the mattress next to him. Haru didn't move, but rather remained completely still as a stray water droplet escaped from his hair to his cheek. Makoto reached up a hand to brush it away, trailing the back of his hand over the soft curve of Haru's cheekbone and flicking the wetness off with a fingertip.

"I enjoyed meeting your family, tonight," Haru finally said, though it came out as more of a whisper.

"Really?" Makoto asked, dumbfounded. He, personally, hadn't found any interactions with his family members that night enjoyable in the least, and didn't imagine that Haru had either.

"You're very lucky to have a family that cares about you so much."

Makoto furrowed his brow, considering the statement. It was rare that people commented on others taking care of him, and not the other way around. Usually, people seemed impressed by Makoto's habit of making sure everyone else was okay, and applauded him for things like holding open doors for strangers and coming home from university to take care of his family. Makoto had gotten so used to such sentiments that he often forgot that others did the same for him as well.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Makoto agreed. "They're really great people. Even Ren and Ran, when they're not up to trouble. My mom has always worked hard to make sure everybody's taken care of. Even after my dad was diagnosed, she never stopped worrying about things like haircuts and lunches and school performances. When I was at university, she would still text me everyday to make sure I was eating well and getting enough sleep."

"Is that why you came home from school?" Haru asked. "So you could take care of her too?"

Makoto's breath caught in his throat before laughing, recalling a past conversation. "So you really didn't believe my story about the school catching on fire, and me dropping out to become a firefighter?"

Haru gave a slight smile and shook his head. "No."

"And you just never said anything?" Makoto was both offended and grateful at the same time that Haru would so casually dismiss false information, but was relieved that they were finally clearing the air.

"If you had wanted me to know why you really quit school, you would have told me." Haru finally looked up from his hands and faced Makoto, his sullen look morphing into one of raw sincerity. "Thank you, Makoto, for telling me now, and for letting me stay here with your family."

"O-Oh, you're welcome," Makoto stuttered, affected by Haru's expression as much as his words. "There's really no need to thank me, I'm just happy you're out of the storm." As if to drive in the point, a roll of thunder sounded outside the windows, and Makoto shuddered. "I guess it's not letting up like the reports said it would anyways…"

Standing up and walking to his window, Makoto looked outside, peeling back his blinds just enough to catch a glimpse of swaying foliage and menacing clouds, barely discernable in the night sky. A bright flash of lightning illuminated the scene for a split second before a crash of thunder shook the house.

"Oh gosh it's really getting bad out there," Makoto observed, letting the blinds slide back into place before heading back to the bed. Upon turning around, he found Haru fidgeting with his clothes once again-tugging at the pants' pockets and rolling the hemline of the shirt back and forth between his fingers. Makoto sighed.

"Are the clothes really that bad?" he asked, walking up to the foot of the bed and kneeling to look up at Haru. "I know they're big-I'm really sorry I don't have anything closer to your size… Here." He reached down to the floor where loads of extra fabric were pooling around Haru's ankles and started rolling up the cuffs of the pants to a point where they reached a more natural length on Haru's legs. Haru simply sat still and watched him as he worked, with only the occasional movement of a twitching hand at the base of his shirt or a pull at the neckline.

"Ah, much better," Makoto declared, standing up from the floor. He took one look at Haru still messing with the shirt and put his hands on his hips. "Really, Haru?" Shaking his head, he bent down to remove Haru's hands from the baggy fabric and started rolling up the sleeves. When he found Haru still pulling at the bottom of the shirt, Makoto sighed again. "I guess I can try to fix that too."

Haru lifted his arms slightly for Makoto to take hold of the hem of the shirt and start rolling it up. Makoto tried to roll it in a way that it would stay put, but the fabric was too loose and unstructured to maintain much of any alteration. "Ugh, this is kind of hard," Makoto mumbled as he fussed with the shirt. Haru remained unresponsive until in one frustrated jerk of his hand, Makoto pulled the whole bottom of the shirt up, completely exposing Haru's smooth, toned stomach, and Haru inhaled sharply, the cool air of the room rushing across his skin.

"Uh, sorry! Sorry!" Makoto stammered, dropping his hands and flushing, looking down at his feet. He hadn't meant to pull up the shirt so far or make Haru uncomfortable, but it had happened anyways.  _I shouldn't have touched his clothes in the first place,_ Makoto chastised himself.

"Makoto." A white light flashed over Haru's features as a crack of thunder reverberated throughout the room. Makoto had expected Haru to be done playing with the clothing after his slip of the hand, but rather, Haru was messing with the cloth even more than before. His motions felt exaggerated and a bit frenzied as he pushed and pulled and grabbed, and some new emotion seemed to be radiating from his face. Makoto couldn't quite place it, but he almost felt as if Haru was challenging him-demanding that he fix the clothes once and for all.

Without a word, Makoto reached out to the shirt once again, letting his fingers start at the top of Haru's torso and trail downwards over the orange and yellow folds. He curled his fingers beneath the hem of the shirt when he reached the bottom, knuckles brushing over the taut skin of Haru's stomach, and started rolling-keeping his movements quicker and tighter than he had the first time. As he worked, though, Makoto didn't realize Haru was leaning backwards until Haru was flat on the mattress, Makoto clumsily falling on top of him.

"Haru!" Makoto gasped as he crashed into Haru's chest, his fingers tangling in hopeless bunches with handfuls of the shirt. He pulled himself up as quickly as possible to check Haru's face for any signs of pain or discomfort on his behalf, but he came up blank again. Instead of finding the alarmed expression he had expected to see, as it would mirror his own, Makoto found the same expression that Haru had been wearing minutes before as he fidgeted with his clothing, staring straight into Makoto's eyes, and perhaps a bit deeper.

As soon as some of Makoto's weight was alleviated from his body, Haru picked up his restless movement as if nothing had happened. He walked his hands down the sides of his body and into the pockets of the oversized sweatpants, glaring at Makoto all the way.  _Does he really want me to…?_ Makoto sighed and shook his head before taking hold of the elastic band at Haru's hips, pulling it up and folding it over until it sat snugly enough that it wasn't constantly threatening to fall down. He had to hoist Haru's body up off the bed a bit to reach the back of the band, forcing Haru's lower back into a gentle arch as he worked. Haru's body was limp and heavy, and Makoto felt the strain in his own back of having to support it. Every time he adjusted the band, Haru's hips would shift in some awkward way that made it nearly impossible for Makoto to keep a decent hold of him.

"Ah, Haru, you're not helping," Makoto groaned, lowering Haru back to the mattress below. It almost felt like he was handling a dead fish, growing slacker and slacker by the second. "Haru…" When he drew back enough to take in the whole picture though, Makoto noticed a steady rise and fall of Haru's chest and closed eyes beneath tousled hair. Makoto laughed.  _He really fell asleep that quickly?_

Makoto noticed his hands were still firmly planted on Haru's waist, pinning him to the bed. He still needed to finish one last roll of the pants, but wondered if it was really necessary with Haru already asleep. Regardless, it wouldn't hurt to make one last adjustment, so Makoto lifted Haru's hips one last time to fold over the fabric.

As he released his fingers from the waistband, he let his thumbs spiral outward, brushing over the subtle protrusions of Haru's hipbones before letting him go.  _I guess I should go to sleep too,_ Makoto thought, looking down at Haru's peaceful expression and smiling. He was completely unguarded-something Makoto rarely saw. Even though Makoto had learned to break through Haru's walls to some extent, they were always still there. Asleep, Haru couldn't put up any barriers, so there was nothing to keep Makoto from seeing exactly who was in front of him. There was no fidgeting or hiding or turning away, and no confusing words or looks-just Haru. Granted, sleeping Haru wasn't the most interactive or engaging, but he still had the power to make Makoto's heart race in a way it hadn't before. Usually, his heart would race in anticipation of what might happen, but right then, his breath was catching because he knew exactly what  _was._ Haru was lying in front of him, breathing and resting, and maybe dreaming too.

The storm outside was still brewing, and another flash of lightning illuminated the room, setting fire to Haru's shadowy features. His skin glowed bright white against the black and grey of the comforter, and Makoto couldn't help but notice the contours of his musculature accentuated by the blinding highlights. Cautiously, Makoto extended a finger to the inside of Haru's wrist, and ran it over the veins and tendons, pausing for a moment to feel his steady pulse. It felt so personal to feel Haru's blood coursing through his body, knowing each time a valve pumped the precious fluid through the labyrinth of pipes to keep him alive. Makoto trailed his finger from Haru's wrist up to the soft skin of his inner elbow, and then across the planes of his collarbones, letting his finger dip into the divot in between, once again delving into the sensation of the blood pumping just beneath the surface. He felt himself slipping into a sort of hypnosis- enthralled by the steady beating and warmth- and allowed himself to rest his ear upon Haru's steady chest. The sounds of life poured into his head, and Makoto nuzzled his cheek into the fabric of Haru's borrowed shirt. Yet, as much as he tried, he couldn't draw himself close enough to their origin.

All the while that Makoto explored, Haru remained fast asleep, never stirring. Soft breaths escaped his lips in accordance with the movement of his chest, and Makoto chuckled at the sound. It was much higher pitched than he would have expected from Haru-probably more on the frequency of his own voice-and it was just so… innocent. Makoto often got so caught up in the idea of Haru as something otherworldly with his enrapturing eyes and fish-like prowess in the water, that he would forget he was just human. But he slept and breathed and pumped blood, too, just like everyone else. Being face to face with that side of Haru made Makoto feel closer to him than he could have imagined, and it made him unbelievably happy.

"Okay, Haru," Makoto whispered as he sat up straight, although he knew Haru couldn't hear him. "Let's get you in bed. You'll get cold if you stay out in the open like this." Makoto drew his hands away from Haru's skin, where they were lazily tracing the pale blue veins visible beneath, and slid them under Haru's arms and the bend of his knees. Standing up and lifting Haru with him, Makoto peeled back the bedsheets and deposited Haru in the warm pocket he had made for him. He adjusted Haru's head on the pillows until he appeared to be in the most comfortable position possible, and pushed back his bangs to press a light kiss to his forehead. "Good night, Haru-chan," Makoto murmured before lying down in his own bed on the floor.

Within seconds of closing his eyes, Makoto fell into a thick, dreamless sleep, and for the first time that night, he felt completely at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO we decided to update this fic in its entirety, as MufasasPride and I have FINALLY gotten a six hour opportunity to sin together and work on this monster. It's wonderful, and it only seemed right to share in our happiness with the wonderful readers on this site. There will be a couple more chapters like these before we move into some... different... territory, and we are hoping to get them out ASAP as well. There are so many comments we could make on every single line of this, and we made a bit more in our original chapter by chapter posting on fanfiction, but since this is kind of a mass-posting, we'll restrain ourselves. Otherwise, this comment box would be just as long as the chapter. Thanks again for reading!


	10. A Change in the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru thinks, Sousuke is predatory, Rin is uncomfortable, and Makoto is honest.

"Oi, Haru-chan!" called out Kagari. "Do you have that new shipment checked yet? I'm running kinda low out here."

"I'm almost done," Haru replied from his spot in the back of the stand, his hands deep in a pile of mackerel.

"Alright, hurry it up!" Kagari commanded. Haru grunted in response.

Haru continued sifting through the fish, sighing. He wasn't particularly focused of them, however, and instead his mind kept drifting to the previous weekend and the night he spent at Makoto's house. A lot had happened that night, and Haru was still struggling to wrap his mind around it. It felt strange to be in the house that Makoto lived in, the room that he slept in. Makoto had seen Haru's apartment plenty of times, but it was a new experience for Haru to see what Makoto went home to every night. He had wondered about why Makoto had never invited him over or spoke much about his family, but he had figured that he would tell him something eventually, so he had decided to wait until Makoto felt comfortable.

Although he couldn't really say that Makoto was comfortable that night. Haru hadn't seen him act so anxiously before, with his stammering rants and tumbling apologies occurring every other sentence. It was amusing at first, but eventually it grew wearisome. Haru couldn't understand why Makoto felt like he needed to explain every reasoning behind his family's actions and words, or why everything justified an apology.  _Has he not seen Rei and Nagisa?_  Haru thought, biting his lip in bemusement.  _Talk about a justified apology._  In a strange way, he could see a resemblance between his roommates and Ren and Ran, certainly in the way that Makoto acted around them and how they affected him.  _Maybe they're the equivalents of Rei and Nagisa in Makoto's life._  He shivered at the thought, now beginning to understand Makoto's incessant waterfall of "sorry"s.

But despite his nerves and misgivings about meeting Makoto's family, he had enjoyed himself and had enjoyed being with them. Even though Makoto was a jumpy, nervous wreck, Haru could tell how close he was with his family, how close he  _had_  to be with his family. Haru knew that the situation they were in with Makoto's dad could have easily caused a rift and made the family fall apart, but instead of weakening, the Tachibanas had grown stronger.

While watching them interact, Haru felt guilty at the bridling feeling in the pit of his stomach: envy. It was not an uncommon emotion for him, having felt it at times when he went to Nagisa's house in high school, or when Rei's parents visited. But it was even stronger an envy with the Tachibana family, as their love and trust was obvious. He'd never had that. The closest thing he'd had to family were Rei and Nagisa, but they weren't blood related and he hadn't even met them until high school. Seeing families together pained Haru, reminding him of what he didn't have and surfacing memories he didn't want to remember.

However, Haru was surprised when the envious feeling began to subside as the dinner and evening progressed. He felt like he was actually being included equally and that, despite never meeting him before, Mrs. Tachibana and the twins treated him like he was a part of the family. They joked with and trusted him like he had eaten dinner with them every night for five years. It didn't really surprise him that this was the family Makoto had grown up with. The understanding and acceptance prevalent in Makoto's character was obviously instilled in him from a young age, probably by an example set by his parents.

Haru assumed that Makoto's dad was also of the same gentle, kindly caliber, based off of the family's obvious love for him. Makoto never talked about his own issues or struggles and only seemed concerned or interested in others', so it surprised Haru for the easygoing, lighthearted walls to finally come crashing down and to see the actual pain inside. It hurt him seeing Makoto struggling, but at the same time he was honored that Makoto trusted Haru enough to be willing to show that side of himself. Haru felt a surging wave of frustration at the unfairness of the world. Wonderful people like Makoto and his family didn't deserve any of what happened to them, and there was nothing they or Haru could do but accept it and try to move forward.

But there was another presence of guilt in Haru; a more crooked and uncomfortable one than the one regarding his envy. Images of raging flames and blaring sirens resurfaced with a wave of paranoia. Makoto confided in him and told him of his most painful secret, the one people had strayed from him because of, yet Haru couldn't tell him his. Or rather, the one that directly affected Makoto. Makoto had gotten over his fear of being left or pitied because of his dad's condition to tell Haru, but Haru was too selfish and cowardly to tell Makoto anything. He was absolutely sure that he would not stay with him if he knew. Haru couldn't picture Makoto calling the police and selling him out, but at the same time, he didn't know how Makoto would react to the news.

He didn't want to lose the only person he had ever he had ever… what? Liked? Liked seemed too informal a definition now, too commonplace. Whatever he felt for Makoto certainly pushed past the beyond the confines of mere "like" into something that Haru didn't have a word for. At one point, it could have been classified as a one-sided obsession and fascination, but with mutual feelings involved, Haru was lost. He now had new feelings he didn't really know what to do with, as they made him feel different around Makoto and changed how he acted. While sitting on Makoto's bed, he had a sudden desire for Makoto's skin to be in contact with his, more so than just holding hands or kissing. He hadn't had any idea how to convey this odd new feeling to Makoto, who seemed very uncomfortable around touching him in any way other than he had already done so. He didn't even want to share a bed with Haru, despite it being the only bed in the room. It almost seemed irrational to Haru; they were already dating, so what was he afraid of?

Haru had been trying to wave away his new emotions, considering Makoto's timidness, but it hadn't seemed to be working for him. The image and sensation of Makoto being on top of him, gently trying to fix his clothes, kept popping into his mind and giving him a rush of adrenaline. He had enjoyed Makoto's touch and felt disappointed whenever Makoto had fixed his clothing and stepped away, so Haru purposely kept messing it up just so Makoto would continue touching him. He thought that he'd given Makoto a pretty clear message that he wanted him to touch him more and given him plenty of opportunity, but Makoto remained painfully oblivious to what Haru wanted. Although, Makoto's light, innocent touch was soothing, and Haru found himself quickly lulled to sleep in warmth and comfort. He awoke underneath the covers of the bed early the next morning, a snoring Makoto on the floor below him.

Haru sighed, longing to spend time with Makoto again, who had been slammed with work all this week and unavailable (much to his constant apologies). Staring at the bucket of fish still before him, Haru's mind flashed with inspiration. He slipped off the gloves from his hands and surreptitiously pulled his phone out of his pocket, knowing that Kagari would probably kill him for using his phone while working. Not that Haru had ever really used his phone before Makoto, but he figured Kagari wouldn't appreciate it, so he typed quickly.

**To: Makoto Tachibana**

**Do you want to go swimming again with me?**

He quickly locked his phone after sending the text and put it back in his pocket, glancing behind him. After putting back on his gloves he immediately delved back into the fish, hoping to feel a buzz from his pocket.

That buzz didn't arrive until later that day, when Haru had finished up work at the fish market and was walking home. Blood pounding, he pulled it out to read it.

**From: Makoto Tachibana**

**Yeah! I really enjoyed swimming with you last time! :) I finally have a day off on Sunday if that works for you.**

Haru smiled and typed a quick affirmation before putting the phone away. He lifted his head, a new excitement in his chest. After that one time he had swam with Makoto, he had been looking for an opportunity to do it again. The combination of his two favorite worlds gave him a new feeling of exhilaration. Sunday couldn't come quickly enough.

* * *

"They won't get away this time."

Rin sighed, slamming the door of his car shut, switching on the flashing lights. He rolled down his window and stuck his head out as he backed out of the garage. Sousuke stood in the emptying bay, eyes full of fire and aimed at the ground. He was trapped in the swirling vortex of his own thoughts and hunger for justice, and the sight of him made Rin more uneasy than any arsonist. If they ever did catch the culprit, which Rin was starting to doubt they would, they would really have it in for them. Rin was fairly certain that if they knew Sousuke was investigating their case, they would have stopped with the fires a long time ago.

"We'll do what we can," Rin called, exasperated with the hunt already. When Sousuke didn't respond, Rin rolled up the window and turned the wheel, sounding his sirens. He sped off away from the city lights to the sight of the newest fire.  _Just please let this be the end,_  he wished, running a hand back through his hair. The case was going to be the death of him.

The call had come in at exactly 12:53 A.M., reporting that an old gas station had been set on fire on the city outskirts. half a mile from any currently operational businesses. Apparently it had only gone out of business two weeks prior, and still had active gas pumps. But, the very reason it had shut down in the first place was because of the lack of traffic to the area, making it the perfect place for the serial arsonist's next strike.

Naturally, Sousuke had completely flipped when he heard there was another arson strike, still an avid believer that their culprit was still out and active. Sousuke was just waiting for them to run out of the satisfaction from gaining whatever it was that they wanted, and decide it was time to demand more. Rin, however, was apprehensive, seeing how the strikes were so far apart. Arson did, despite their particular circumstances, still occur in the outside world-and not serially. Every instance of arson didn't automatically become a part of the serial case, no matter how badly Sousuke wanted it to.

Upon reaching the site, Rin pulled over his car and turned off his sirens. When he stepped out of his car, he immediately identified the Fire Chief, and headed over to talk to him.

"Thinking about reinstituting 'The Serial Situation' after this?" Rin yelled over the chaos around them, prompting Sasabe to turn around. After processing Rin's statement, he shook his head and pointed at the flaming gas station a hundred feet or so away from them.

"It's not their style," Sasabe stated, leaning over to Rin who by then stood by his side.

Rin surveyed the scene in front of him and nodded, grimacing. "Jesus," he muttered. Despite the fairly desolate location and characteristic time of the evening, Sasabe was right. Just the act of lighting a  _gas_  station seemed unintelligent and unlike the arsonist, who made a point of lighting buildings that wouldn't be very dangerous and have minimal damage. Rin noticed the fire squad was at a farther distance away, wary of a gas explosion. Even if the location wasn't enough to place the blame elsewhere, the style of this arsonist was sloppy and violent. The columns of flames were erratically placed around the station, some completely consuming pumps and others lapping up the sidewalk. It looked like some of the nozzles from the pumps were hanging haphazardly on the pavement while others were twisted around poles. The flames littering the ground seemed to be arranged in a sort of pattern and Rin wondered if the arsonist had written a message with the gasoline. The serial arsonist's style was much more clean and methodical, leaving the buildings looking virtually untouched, and it was clear that someone had done a lot of tampering with the station before Rin showed up. He groaned-Sousuke was going to be pissed.

"Dammit," Rin growled, gaze still pulled in by the flames in front of him. Sasabe tapped his shoulder and Rin tore away his focus to see three other officers and what appeared to be a very drunk man between them walking towards them. Rin crossed his arms. Of course a careless fire meant a careless culprit, and his co-workers had already caught them.  _If only Sousuke hadn't been so whiny when I was trying to leave, I could have caught him first…_ The officers directed the man over to a cop car and cuffed him before easing him into the vehicle. The man was certainly beyond reasonable alcohol consumption for the evening, and was belligerently yelling something.

He saw that one tall fireman walk over to Rin's co-workers to speak to them about something- what was his name, Tachibana? Tachibana gestured back at the fire, and the other police officers all sighed and looked annoyed. Rin frowned, curious as to what Tachibana had just said. He quickly walked over to the police car, and as he drew closer he heard Officer Nitori groaning.

"This dangerous a fire for that?" Nitori exclaimed, shaking his head. "You think you've seen it all…"

Rin stopped next to them. "What's going on?" he asked loudly, over the man in the back of the car still shouting vehemently.

Tachibana pointed back to the fire. "I think we can make safe bets about what his motive was," he said, almost chuckling.

Looking back at the flaming gas station, Rin saw something that he hadn't been able to see from his previous vantage point. What had just been strangely placed flames in almost a pattern, was now very clearly forming a word. Glowing in the darkness of the night, probably visible from a mile away, for all to see, was 'SLUT'.

"N' she wasn't even fuckin otherr men!" the drunk man yelled, finally managing to form a halfway articulate sentence. He swung his head out the open door of the car, letting it droop over the seat between the arms of the struggling officers. Wagging a finger, he directed his glassy-eyed gaze at Rin and he shouted,"She was fuckin otherr chicks!" before the officers gave him a final shove and slammed the car door behind him.

Rin sighed exasperatedly, rubbing his forehead. This was getting worse by the minute- not only was the fire obviously not from the serial arsonist, but it was from a drunk, angry middle-aged man leaving a message for his cheating girlfriend. Sousuke was going to be… well, Rin didn't want to think about that. He'd just avoid him for about a week to let him cool off.

A little explosion went off, making everyone jump. Tachibana turned to them, shouting "That's my cue!" before running back down to Sasabe and the rest of the firefighters. Watching the flames wave treacherously, Rin grimaced.  _At least I don't have to take care of that_ , he consoled himself. But looking back at the sweating, furious man in the back of the car, and Sousuke avidly waiting for their return, suddenly staying behind didn't seem so bad.

"You guys go on ahead- I'll take care of the stuff here," he told Nitori and the other two officers.

The two nodded and clambered into the car, flashing on the lights, while Nitori stepped towards Rin. "I'll behind stay with you," he told Rin, who opened his mouth to protest, but closed it when he saw the other car pull away, sirens blaring.

"Fine," he grumbled, walking back to his car to sit on the hood. Nitori scrambled behind and sat down next to him. The two sat in silence, watching the firefighters take care of the gas station. After about an hour, the fire was out. Rin and Nitori put up "do not cross" tape around the perimeter, and waited for the investigators and the second group of police to arrive. Once there was nothing more for him to do, Rin left and headed back to the station.

Rin tiptoed in through the heavy, metal doors, hoping that Sousuke was steaming alone in his office and wouldn't see him. Although Sousuke wasn't on his shift, Rin knew he would be at the station all night, unable to sleep. Sousuke was the ultimate workaholic. Often the other investigators and officers would joke that he didn't have anywhere to go home to, which was why he spent so much time at the station. Rin winced internally when he heard these jokes, and made sure never to relay them to Sousuke. He might not mind being called a workaholic, but homeless was another thing.

Rin's shift didn't end for another six hours, so he would have to be extra cautious to not attract the attention of Sousuke. He walked to the break room, glancing left and right for signs of Sousuke, and quickly slipped in the doorway, neck craned to watch behind him. He turned forward and his stomach suddenly filled with dread. Sousuke stood there, filling a cup of coffee.

He looked over at Rin, expression dead, and then back at his cup. Rin swallowed, glancing towards the dingy gray table beside him. He carefully took a seat at it, not wanting to seem like Sousuke's presence in the room was deterring him from whatever he needed to do, which it was, but Sousuke didn't need to know. It would probably piss him off, and he looked like he was pissed already. Rin sighed.

"I heard," came a low voice behind him. Rin tensed, accidentally biting his lip, which naturally started bleeding.  _Shit._

"Yeah, it was some crazy drunk guy who wanted to show the world his girlfriend was a whore, gas explosions and all," Rin muttered, trying to keep it casual. He didn't need Sousuke to notice how honestly scared he was of him. That would just make things worse. He heard Sousuke inhale, as if he were about to speak, but then he stopped. Rin turned around and saw him staring at the wall, idly swirling his coffee. The faint hum of the overhanging fluorescent lights buzzed in Rin's ears as he awaited a response. He flicked his eyes down to the ashy plastic table, his fingertips absentmindedly tapping a rhythm, and for lack of a better thing to do, snatched up his white styrofoam cup of water.

"I'm glad I don't have to deal with that," Sousuke said finally, making Rin sputter in the middle of his sip of water.  _Since when did Sousuke not want to deal with arson?_ Sousuke broke his staring contest with the wall and pulled out a chair across from Rin, setting down his coffee and leaning back in a stretch. The collar of his shirt tugged down to reveal a rare bit of his defined collarbone which Rin stared at dizzily, before snapping out of his trance just as eagerly as he had gone in.

"Wh-What?" Rin finally managed, remembering he was supposed to be having a conversation. Sousuke didn't seem to notice the stammer, taking a sip of his drink and clasping his hands together.

"A crazy, cheating girlfriend." Rin was glad he had stopped drinking his water because he was sure he would have spat it out again.  _When did we start talking about girlfriends? Right, right. The drunk guy with the fire and the slut thing._

"Well," Rin replied, leaning back to match Sousuke. "I wouldn't call the girlfriend the crazy one. She didn't exactly set fire to a-"

"I'm still glad I don't have to deal with it," Sousuke stated, cutting Rin off. He sighed and took another sip of his coffee. "What about you, Rin?" he asked.

Rin swallowed, eyes widening. It didn't feel like so much of an open-ended inquiry as it did a challenge. "Uh, yeah, I mean, it's nice not having someone make me want to set fire to an old gas station…"  _But it's not so nice having someone make me want to gouge my eyes out with a coffee stirrer._ Rin eyed the coffee supplies across the room.  _Unless Sousuke gouges out my eyes first…_

"Hmm, I believe you," Sousuke said, pointing at Rin with his pinky finger. "Women are crazy."

Rin let out a bitter laugh. "Like you know women so well," he jabbed, rolling his eyes. Sousuke chuckled.

"Maybe not…" he admitted, glancing downwards. "But I do know men, and I know you." Sousuke's eyes flickered dangerously as he met Rin's, making Rin immediately regret whatever he had done to deserve whatever was about to happen. Sousuke suddenly stood up and leaned forward on the table with his arms, pushing his coffee cup aside.

"Just earlier, I leaned back in my chair to stretch, which I never do, and you were staring-not looking, but  _staring._ " Sousuke raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response, but Rin simply squirmed under his gaze. Of course Sousuke would whip out some investigator shit on him. Sousuke was the single most observant person Rin knew, so some idle staring was sure to be detected. Sousuke had just decided to be all manipulative and pretend he didn't notice at the time.  _Damn him to hell…_

"And I know for a fact that you weren't just staring because I rarely stretch," Sousuke continued, sounding more enthusiastic with every word. "No, the thought didn't even cross your mind. Your pupils dilated when you looked at me, the way they're dilating now, the way they have been dilating for the past  _two weeks_ when you've looked at me." Sousuke stood back and crossed his arms. "You're not just sexually attracted to men, Rin. You're sexually attracted to  _me._ "

Rin sat, gaping at the man before him, frozen by his accusations.  _Sexually attracted? To Sousuke?_ He kept trying to summon back his wits and say something snarky in response or at least not sit still like an idiot, but nothing was working. It was as if his mind had been shut off, trapping all thoughts from being carried through to action.

"Okay," Sousuke said, either not noticing or not caring that the walls of Rin's world were caving in around him. "Maybe that's not enough evidence for you, so I will now turn to various other, collected, specific events that support my case." Sousuke extended his index finger to symbolize the first, specific event. "When Nitori complimented my tie the other day, you purposely pointed out that it brought out my eyes, and then you  _blushed._ "

While Sousuke was talking, Rin had time to regain a bit of his composure, and the last comment sparked enough of his ever-present anger summon a snap back. "My eyes and hair are  _red._ It always looks like I'm blushing."

Sousuke smirked, seeing right through Rin's excuses. "Let's move on to another example. Three days ago, you changed the wallpaper on your phone to a picture of the two of us at the department's Christmas party. And it's almost summer."

Rin shrugged. "Yeah, so what? It was a fun party. And what were you doing looking at my phone?!"

"I don't know," Sousuke spoke, words coming calmly and easily, unlike Rin's frantic retorts. "Maybe I saw it when I glanced over your shoulder while I was adjusting the flashlight holder on the back of your  _belt_!"

"I was in a hurry and had to text Gou!"

"Yeah, right, like you couldn't have taken two seconds to fix it on your own."

Rin clenched his teeth, simultaneously wanting to punch Sousuke and disappear into thin air-he couldn't decide which would be more satisfying. He opened his mouth to contradict Sousuke, but Sousuke pointed his index finger at his face before he could say anything.

"Wait, this one is my personal favorite!" he exclaimed, laughing mercilessly. "You-" he stopped, choking on his own laughter. Rin's scowl increased. "Yesterday my shoulder was bothering me and I was rubbing it to relieve the pain, when all of a sudden you came up behind me and began massaging it for me!" His pale eyes twinkled menacingly. "And… I swear I heard you let out a little moan…"

Rin stood up, pushing aside his chair, anger roaring in his ears.  _Ouch!_  In his furious state, he accidentally chomped on his lip with his sharp teeth, causing another drop of blood to form and drip down the bottom of his chin. A metallic, bitter taste filled his mouth as he glared at Sousuke, who looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're bleeding," Sousuke said calmly, standing up. "When will you learn…" he continued, slowly sauntering towards Rin. "That kind of anger never leads to anything productive." He drew closer and closer to Rin, who despite himself, began to blush. Sousuke stopped about a foot away from him. "See?" he bragged. "You begin to blush the minute I come closer to you."

Rin scowled and exhaled sharply. "Yeah, I don't like it when people invade my personal space," he rebutted defiantly.

Sousuke moved a step closer. "Yet I don't see you moving away," he said slyly. He smiled wickedly at Rin, who only grew more flustered.  _Why am I not moving?_  he asked himself angrily.

Suddenly he felt a hand touching his chin. With wide eyes, Rin looked up to see Sousuke looking down at him cockily. "Look how dilated your pupils got at a little physical contact," Sousuke murmured, smirking. "Honestly Rin, I'm just taking care of the blood for you." He came even closer to Rin, putting them chest to chest. He slowly, torturously, drew his thumb along Rin's chin, swiping the blood off. Rin's blush, much to his despair, deepened, and his skin tingled where Sousuke had touched it.

"Oh Rin, there's no need to redden like that," Sousuke purred, his turquoise eyes jauntily staring into Rin's angry red ones. Even though the blood was gone, Sousuke's hand was still on Rin's chin, absentmindedly stroking it. Rin felt a jolt through his body every time Sousuke touched him again. He frowned at himself.  _Why am I frozen like this?_  he fretted.  _Why haven't I punched him yet?_

Sousuke, still holding on to his chin, drew his face closer to Rin. Rin could feel his breath on his face, making his heartbeat quicken. Sousuke slid a finger underneath his chin, resting lightly on his neck. Rin desperately tried to ignore him and control himself, but for some reason he felt dizzy and weak.

"Look at that," Sousuke mused, glancing at his finger on Rin's neck. "Elevated pulse." Rin cursed silently.  _Of course he would think to check my pulse_ , he thought bitterly. But even he couldn't deny that his heart was beating faster than it should have been.

Sousuke smiled, his face almost touching Rin's. It was the smile he made when he had found a culprit, the gloating, "I'm better than you" smile. Rin stopped breathing for a second- he had seen that smile countless times before, but it had never made him this uncomfortable before. He suddenly felt blood rushing through his veins, going to a certain place…

_SHIT._  Rin began to panic, frantically trying to distance himself from Sousuke, but Sousuke kept his hand on his chin, refusing to let him move. Rin began to feel his pants tighten slightly.  _Oh no._  He quickly tried to think of something to get rid of it.  _Something, anything!_  He racked his brain. And image of bowling pins at the end of a lane popped into his head.  _Bowling is the least sexually arousing thing on the face of the earth._  He pictured the alleyway, young children screaming, and families cheering when some lucky bastard got a strike. The issue miraculously began to subside, and Rin breathed out a sigh of relief. But then, another image popped into his head- Sousuke awkwardly tossing the ball, getting gutterball after gutterball. Bending over in his tight pants, rolling his shoulder and… Immediately at the thought of Sousuke, Rin's problem returned in full force, pressing up slightly against Sousuke's leg. Rin shut his eyes and prayed for the ground to swallow him up.  _Well, this is where it ends._

Sousuke's eyebrows raised pointedly. "Oh…" he breathed, his face just inches from Rin's. "I'm just having a conversation here- what are you thinking about?"

Rin gritted his teeth, still a faint taste of blood in his mouth. "Fuck you," he snarled at Sousuke.

Sousuke chuckled. "Oh, wouldn't you like to," he said coyly.

After a few more moments of heated eye contact and willing away a certain issue only for it to grow stronger, Sousuke decided to take pity on Rin and release him. Walking back over to his original side of the table, Sousuke scooped up his coffee cup and carried it with him out of the room, completely disregarding the interaction that just took place.

"I'm still pissed about that arsonist," Sousuke muttered as he exited-a statement to which Rin could only respond by dropping his jaw and standing stunned, feeling violated somehow. He had wanted Sousuke to leave him alone, but… He sighed and glanced down at the uncomfortably obvious bulge in his pants.

_Damn you boner-killers forever being ruined by Sousuke's shitty bowling skills…_

* * *

Makoto swam to the wall of the pool. "It's getting kind of late," he said, looking back at Haru, who was still swimming with ease. They had opted for a more… free… structure to their time in the pool this time, which Makoto hadn't minded at all, except it led to Haru being even more sucked into his aquatic world than the first time they had gone swimming. Nevertheless, he still got quite the workout trying to keep mildly close to Haru as he twisted and twirled through the water, barely surfacing to take a breath before diving right back in.

"Oh," mumbled Haru, a look of disappointment flashing across his face. Makoto laughed.  _Just as expected._

Makoto pulled himself up onto the deck of the pool, water dripping off of him into tiny puddles on the floor. He walked over to the towel he had set out earlier and picked it up before turning back to Haru. "I'm going to go change," he announced, nodding his head toward the locker room and hoping that his words would somehow reach Haru through his pool-induced daze.

Thankfully, Haru seemed to register, and he nodded. "I'm going to swim another minute longer,"

"That's fine," Makoto replied, smiling and wrapping the towel around his shoulders.

He turned away and walked into the dingy locker room. After drying himself off with the towel, he opened the blue locker where he had put his stuff and pulled it out. He looked at the clothes for a second before becoming all too aware of the chlorine on his skin and hair. He glanced back into the darkness of the back of the room where the showers were. If Haru was still going to be a while…  _It couldn't hurt,_  he thought. Dropping his things, Makoto headed back to the showers and flicked on a light.

"Ahh," Makoto sighed as steaming water hit his skin. It was a nice contrast from the cold water of the pool. As the warmth rained down on his skin, Makoto felt his muscles slowly relaxing. He didn't realize it in the moment, but swimming with Haru had worked his muscles into all kinds of knots. He reached up to his neck and began to massage a particularly sore spot, closing his eyes in the painful release.

So caught up in the expulsion of tension from his neck and shoulders, Makoto failed to notice a second pair of hands rubbing circles between his shoulderblades until moments after the initial contact.

"Wh-whaaaa!" Makoto gasped as he jumped out of the stream of water, every muscle he had managed to release tensing again. "Haru?" he asked when he caught sight of Haru, standing where he just was. He exhaled, relieved to know it wasn't someone else who had snuck up behind him.

"Who else would it be?" Haru asked rhetorically. Haru wasted no time in waiting for Makoto to recover from his shock, and instead turned on another shower and stepped underneath.

"I-I thought you were going to swim longer," Makoto stammered, trying to shake his startled expression. Haru tilted his head to the side, letting water drip onto his neck.

"I decided I'd rather take a shower," Haru said. Makoto tried not to stare as the water freeflowed over Haru's toned muscles, dripping off his swimsuit and down his legs. Makoto could tell in the pool, but he could especially tell then, with no goggles or quick movement muddling his vision, that Haru looked good wet.

"O-oh, okay…"

_Stop staring at him,_ Makoto scolded himself as he shook his head and tentatively retook his spot beneath the adjacent shower. Despite his efforts not to get his line of vision plastered to Haru's taut, glistening, alabaster body, he had miserably failed. Somehow, as their relationship progressed, Makoto had been feeling increasingly uncomfortable in moments when he noticed or admired Haru's body. He mostly accredited it to the excitement he initially felt upon seeing Haru in a swimsuit or a towel, and the way that the images stuck in his mind, popping up at the worst moments. Makoto hid his red face beneath wet hair and tried to focus on getting clean.

A few minutes of silence later, Haru spoke up. "You're doing it again."

"Huh?" Makoto asked, pausing in the midst of kneading another painful lump on his back.  _He didn't notice me staring at him, did he?_ After carefully tracing Haru's gaze, Makoto realized that his eyes were focused on exactly that particular sore spot. Makoto laughed nervously, a little embarrassed. "Oh yeah, I just got a little sore from swimming so much. You really gave me a workout, Haru-chan."

Haru tilted his head, dark bangs falling to one side and revealing his eyes enough for Makoto to tell he was deep in concentration, as if lost in a conflict of sorts. Makoto shifted uneasily, wondering if Haru was going to respond, or if he should just continue washing. When the silence didn't cease, Makoto decided on the latter.

"You're just going to hurt yourself more if you try to get the knots out yourself," Haru finally said. He took a step out from beneath the water and flipped his hair to look up at Makoto, who had frozen upon hearing the remark. The sound of the water from Haru's shower was no longer softened by the shield of his body, and hit the tile in an uninterrupted hum.

"Oh." Makoto wasn't quite sure what to say, but Haru's purposeful look was suggesting that he should say  _something._ "Maybe I should stop then, huh?"

Long, slender fingers extended themselves towards Makoto's wrist and trailed up his arm until they reached his shoulder, effortlessly removing Makoto's own hand which had gone slack with the gesture. "I'll help you," Haru offered.

Before Makoto could protest, Haru was standing beneath the spray of his shower and taking hold of his shoulders, drumming up a steady massage. Haru's deft hands wasted no time in attacking knot after knot in Makoto's back, kneading them relentlessly. Makoto opened his mouth to say something-anything-that would help him regain his footing in the situation, but all that escaped his lips was a moan.

"Ahhhnngghhhhh… Ah! Um!"

Makoto's face flamed as he registered his involuntary vocalization. In a split second, he found the strength he hadn't had before and shot out of Haru's grip, pressing back against the tiled wall, leaving a foot or two of space between them.

"Haru!" Makoto exclaimed as he bent over, letting water flow across the places that Haru's hands had been moments before. He looked up through the brown web of his hair with widened eyes, trying to communicate the obvious question to Haru.  _What was that for?_

Haru wore a confused expression as he assessed Makoto, whose heavy breathing filled the thick air of the room."Is something wrong?" he asked, voice impassive.

"Yes! Well, no!" Makoto bit his lip and looked back down, not quite sure what to say. Haru seemed oblivious to his discomfort, and Makoto didn't want him to be offended. He was just trying to be helpful, and Makoto just wasn't expecting, well, an actual  _massage_. But should he have been? It had all seemed so natural to Haru… The more Makoto thought about it, the less the words in his head made sense, and the more ridiculous he felt.  _What's wrong with me?_

Haru raised his eyebrows expectantly and crossed his arms. "Makoto."

"Uh!" Makoto instantly yelped as he snapped out of his vortex of thought. When Haru's gaze shifted from impatient to concerned, Makoto waved his hands frantically in front of his chest and mustered up a half-formed reassurance. "No, no, nothing's wrong! I was just, um, a little surprised, that's all. You're really good at massages, Haru, and I wasn't expecting to-mmmm."

"You said I'm good at massages," Haru explained as he kneaded into Makoto's back once again, Makoto not entirely sure how he had flipped around so quickly or why. "I haven't really given one before…" Haru's hands paused for a brief moment before picking up their rhythm again. They targeted the areas on the sides of Makoto's spine, and the stiff muscles snapped and rolled with the movements.

"Yeah, it feels gooahnngghh…" Makoto arched back into Haru's hands as his fingers pressed deeper into a knot.

"You're tense," Haru remarked, working his way back up to Makoto's shoulders which rose at the contact. Makoto compliantly lowered them when he felt Haru's hands hovering above the skin. He sighed. He could resist Haru as he had initially intended to, but it seemed like giving in was the better option. The massage did feel nice, after all.

"I know," Makoto responded in between small outbursts of pain and relief. "I know I normally get pretty stiff from the ahhhhh-work at the...station. I lift a lot of hennnghh-heavy equipment and the hoses are prehhmm-prettyahhh...big. I think swimming today...did...a lot of thissss…."

The hands on Makoto's back suddenly grew lighter, allowing Makoto to relax and pull his chest away from the wall he had been so forcefully plastered against. When the hands started shaking, fingers grazing his skin in a rapid up and down, Makoto looked back over his shoulder and gasped.

Haru was… laughing?

"What?" Makoto chuckled as he took in the smirking figure in front of him. Water sparked off of Haru's skin in a light spray, forming a soft glow around his body. Makoto could tell Haru was trying to compose himself, but a few genuine laughs still slipped out. Haru's eyes flickered up to meet Makoto's, and suddenly the tables were turned-Haru was the one with the red face.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain," Makoto said, lighting up at the soft sound of laughter he had never expected to hear. "It's just… I've never heard you laugh before." At Makoto's speech, Haru immediately grew silent, looking at Makoto with wide eyes through the stream of the water. He looked almost surprised by Makoto's statement, as if he had been expecting him to say something else.

Makoto had figured out enough from nights spent on Haru's couch that Haru was a little bit ticklish, and that making him laugh was indeed possible, but the laughs themselves were always silent, more of short gasps and quirked lips than actual noises. Not until he was faced with the extraordinary sight of Haru smiling with an open mouth, chest convulsing, did Makoto realize exactly how rare a sight it was, and how lucky he was to see it.

Makoto smiled deep into Haru's eyes, and saw blue everywhere. "Thanks, Haru-chan." He tilted his head and laughed. Unable to resist, Makoto closed the gap between the two of them and placed a firm kiss to Haru's lips.

Warm water trickled into Makoto's mouth as he parted his lips to let his tongue slip from one mouth to the other. He lifted a hand up to caress the back of Haru's neck, indulging in the smooth slipperiness of Haru's skin and the way the muscles flexed at the base of his skull when he tilted his head to the side. The strangely pleasant taste of chlorine on Makoto's tongue from Haru's lips made him smile, as there was nothing more Haru-like than water. Haru seemed to have recovered from his earlier embarrassment, as he pressed back into the kiss without hesitation, which was exactly what Makoto had hoped for.

What Makoto had not intended, however, was the single kiss to turn into a thousand.

Haru reached his hands up and raked his fingers through Makoto's hair as his lips drifted down to Makoto's jaw and into his neck, his touch progressively growing more fervored. Makoto dropped his hand from Haru's shoulder as Haru became more forceful and controlling, pushing past lightness and ease to something more passionate and powerful. His soft, chlorine-tasting lips found Makoto's again and gave Makoto needy and hungry kisses, their noses and jaws awkwardly colliding as Haru's actions grew in excitement. Makoto put an arm out to Haru's chest in an attempt to soothe Haru's spontaneous frenzy, but it had no effect.

Suddenly, Haru gave a push and slammed Makoto into the tiled wall behind him, bare feet splashing in the water. Makoto let out a gasp and flinched in shock, his back stinging, but Haru barely gave him a moment to breathe before lunging in to continue his kisses. The back of Makoto's head pressed uncomfortably against the hard wall. Makoto felt little tremors of unease bridle at this new, unexpected side of Haru. He had gotten used to Haru's straightforwardness in his speech and actions, but he had never been this blunt or authoritative before, and as much as Makoto hated to admit it, it kind of scared him. He was surprised at the amount of force and power that radiated from Haru's slim, lithe body, somehow taking over his taller and stronger body with ease.

"H-Haru," Makoto gasped as Haru trailed kisses down his chest and arms, bending his knees to ease in the descent. Haru had pinned Makoto's hands to the wall behind him, and was using the grip as leverage as he raked his teeth over the sensitive skin of Makoto's nipples. Makoto let out moan after moan as Haru nipped and pulled and swirled his tongue. Whatever pleasure Makoto had felt from Haru's massage didn't begin to compare to the sensation of Haru's mouth on his chest, devouring his skin, kiss by kiss. With just a few touches, Makoto had completely forgotten his initial confusion and apprehension, and gave himself to Haru willingly.

"Makoto," Haru whispered, looking up beneath his bangs at Makoto with heavy eyes. Makoto might have said something, but he was too lost in the act that he couldn't summon words. All he had were hazy thoughts, both aware and unaware of what was happening at the same time. Haru slid further down Makoto's torso to his stomach where he traced the rivets of the toned abdominal muscles with his tongue. The sensation was a new and odd one, but Makoto enjoyed it nonetheless. Haru removed his grip on Makoto's wrists to dig his fingers into Makoto's back, leaving red trails as he dragged them down the freshly massaged muscles. Makoto wove his fingers through Haru's hair for support as he was released from the wall and pressed Haru into a low crouch.

_Haru's right in front of…_ "Mmmmm..." Suddenly one of Haru's hands was pressed to the throbbing area between Makoto's legs while the other snaked its way into the spandex band of Makoto's swimsuit. Haru continued to mark Makoto's stomach with his lips as he palmed Makoto through his swimsuit and pulled the fabric of the waistband further down. Not quite registering, Makoto sank happily into the action, but when skin brushed against skin, his eyes snapped open, an overwhelming rush of panic crashing over him. He jumped back to his senses and out of Haru's hold.

"H-Haru!"

Startled, Haru immediately retracted his touch, letting Makoto's swimsuit snap back against his skin and turning his head up to face Makoto, his shimmering blue eyes filled with concern. "Makoto?" he breathed, his brow furrowing.

Makoto's jaw clenched. "I-" he choked, averting his eyes from Haru's in embarrassment. Carefully looking down at feet, a bright red blush spread uncontrollably over his face. "I've never…" He trailed off, at a loss for words, hoping that Haru would somehow catch onto what he was trying to convey.

To his dismay, Haru simply sat in his crouch and narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Huh?" he asked, his eyebrow raising.

Makoto bit his lip and blushed deeper, his pulse thumping wildly in his ears. "I-I'm, uh…" he stammered, his discomfort and mortification growing. He sheepishly met Haru's gaze. "I'm a virgin." His face flamed painfully.

Haru's eyes widened. "Oh," he murmured. He took in a breath before his mouth twitched and he cocked his head to the side. "So? I am too."

"H-Huh?" Makoto blurted in surprise. "But you seem so… um… confident." He mentally cringed at his wording.

Haru shrugged and stood up, unaffected by Makoto's complete shock. "You make me feel confident," he said quietly. He gave Makoto a serious look, his eyes sincere and unblinking.

Makoto's mouth dropped open. "Eh?!" he exclaimed, his face somehow burning an even deeper crimson. "What do you- How can I- I'm not- A-Ah-" He spluttered pitifully, unable to form a single coherent response to Haru's statement, falling further into the deep, dark pit of shame.

Haru huffed and glanced away. "It's not that big of a deal," he grumbled, a little blush on his cheeks despite his grumpy expression.

Makoto laughed. "Sorry," he bubbled, losing some embarrassment in his amusement. Haru's frown softened a little. "I've just never had someone say something like that to me before." He sighed, the laughter in his voice slowly fading out. After a moment of silence Haru's eyes flicked to him, a questioning expression in their depths. Makoto took a breath in. "Look, I've never had anyone that I've ever felt comfortable enough with to ever do… anything." He coughed awkwardly. "I just get really nervous when it comes to stuff like that…" He trailed off, hoping that Haru would understand that it wasn't that he didn't like him, but that anything sexual was such a foreign land for him that he needed time to collect himself and process it.

Haru's lips twitched. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to move forward too quickly for you." He gave Makoto a small, apologetic smile. "If you want to go at a slower pace, then I'll do that."

A rush of relief filled Makoto, finally exhaling and smiling in response. He gazed warmly at the smaller man before him, taking a deep breath in. "Thanks, Haru," he whispered. He reached his hand forward to take Haru's, pressing lightly against the soft, pale skin. Haru's eyes flicked down to his hand for a moment before they returned to Makoto. They stayed there a moment, simply gazing at each other, Makoto lightly rubbing his thumb across Haru's hand before Makoto exhaled, letting go.

Haru turned away and stepped back under the nozzle of his own shower, going back to letting the water fall over him like nothing had happened. As Makoto watched him, he envied his coolness and unflappability, because for him, everything had just changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We said we would try to get the next chapter out this weekend, and we did! And with two hours to spare! (Thank you Carrochan for reminding us there is a next chapter to post, because otherwise this might not have happened for another month or so.) 
> 
> ANYWAYS, look at that convenient sensual shower. Just look at it. If you ever want to laugh, do a dramatic reading of Makoto's dialogue. And so I stop speaking for the both of us...
> 
> MufasasPride: Jesus christ, it's been awhile. Most of this was written months ago, most notably the Sourin section, which was first written in May?! Jeez. Side note: I was writing Rin getting a boner and Sousuke being predatory around 11 the night before my AP English exam. Nothing like writing about boners to prepare you for an exam about rhetoric and language. Though somehow I did well on the exam? Anyways, ARSON LIVES AGAIN HOOOO. Hopefully the next chapter won't be as long of a wait as this one, lord. Peace, y'all!
> 
> sexythroatbitchohyescats: Ahhhh, it feels great to type my pseud again. So, this happened. The chapter of awkward boners and self-cockblocking. The whole third section has been eternally dubbed "shower not blowjobs" and I sincerely apologize for that tease but I couldn't resist. This Sourin section was so fun to write (they really all are) but getting some headway with those two is always exciting, and the Makoharu speaks for itself. Ohohohohohoh the Makoharu... And the serial arsonist is just as elusive as ever.
> 
> Going two months between updates was honestly hell-let's never do that again. Forgive us, and thank you for reading!


	11. Sunset, Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru needs to calm the fuck down, Makoto needs to calm the fuck down, and Rei is just disgusted in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of everyone's favorite killer whale/cinnamon roll's birthday, we managed to get this together relatively quickly. It's a very special chapter, for reasons you shall see soon. Enjoy!

“So what do you want to do?” Makoto asked, leaning against the kitchen island.

The two of them were at Haru’s apartment, trying to think of what to do for the evening. Nagisa was out of town and Rei was staying overnight at school for an important lab, leaving an empty apartment, but neither of them particularly wanted to spend the whole time at home. It was already past dinnertime and there wasn’t much that came to mind for activities.

“Maybe…” Haru began. “We could go swimming again?”

“Oh! Yeah!” he answered exuberantly, despite a little catch in his voice. A thought appeared to hit him and he frowned. “I don’t have my swimsuit with me, though.”

“You could borrow one of mine,” Haru suggested.

“One of yours?” Makoto chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not surprised you have more than one swimsuit.”

“I like swimming,” Haru retorted, huffing slightly.

Makoto tilted his head and smiled understandingly. “I know,” he murmured.

Internally, Haru was delighted and surprised that Makoto wanted to swim again, particularly after what had happened last time. The combination of the two worlds he loved-- water and Makoto-- proved to elicit new emotions and desires. It made him act rather rashly, much to the surprise of Makoto and himself, to an extent. It was obvious to him how much he liked Makoto’s personality, but he hadn’t realized how much he liked him… well... physically. At least he now had a definition to explain the new feelings in his mind and body that perplexed him before. At least he didn’t feel quite as insane with his pulse racing at the sight of Makoto’s collarbones, and the sudden need to press his lips to them.

Haru had never really considered himself to be particularly sexual and hadn’t experienced any sexual attraction before Makoto, but something within him snapped in the showers. Some sort of instinct came over him and he moved without thinking or planning, unsurprisingly shocking and scaring Makoto. Even though the two of them were technically both in the same boat, they had completely different emotions about sexual actions. Haru obviously respected Makoto’s insecurities, and had tried to keep that side of himself controlled, but now that it had tasted freedom it grew harder each day to keep it locked down.

Even as they sat in the kitchen, Haru caught himself admiring the way Makoto’s broad shoulders filled out his t-shirt and how nice he looked in those dark jeans. His eyes wandered to the nape of Makoto’s neck, fixating on the smooth, softly tanned skin beneath the ends of brown hair. He stared at it dizzily, having an overwhelming urge to lean over the kitchen island and kiss it, and then slowly peel off the t-shirt…

“Haru?” Makoto called, jolting Haru out of his daze. His green eyes gave him a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

Haru blinked rapidly, sitting up. “Yeah,” he replied, mentally kicking himself. He nodded towards the hallway leading to his rooms. “I’ll go get a swimsuit for you.” He got up and hurried to his room before he could embarrass himself any further. _You idiot,_ he reprimanded, breathing heavily. _Control yourself._

After quickly changing into a swimsuit and coming back out to give Makoto one, the two of them headed over to the pool. It was a pleasant night outside, the air warm but not sticky, a little cool breeze in the air, and they walked leisurely under the evening Tokyo lights. As they stepped, Makoto recounted a story to Haru about how Ren and Ran’s science project exploded. Haru listened carefully, occasionally interjecting a word or two, but mainly just enjoying watching Makoto’s animated facial expressions as he relayed the experience.

In no time at all, they reached the pool. Haru pulled out a key and unlocked the door, flicking on a couple of lights as they entered. He immediately headed towards the atrium, smelling the enticing chlorine water, flinging off his clothing in the hallway.

“H-Haru!” Makoto exclaimed, stepping back. Haru turned and gave him a confused look, stepping out of his jeans and tossing them aside, now in his swimsuit. Makoto blinked, a relieved expression on his face. “Oh, I thought you weren’t wearing--” He coughed loudly. “Nevermind.” He reached up a hand to scratch the back of his neck and nodded towards the locker room. “I’ll go change into the swimsuit you gave me.”

Haru nodded and watched him go, pausing for a moment as an unwitting image of Makoto changing into the swimsuit popped into his head. Haru shook his head and tried to erase the image from his mind, turning to focus on the water before him. He walked forward and dove in, sighing as he felt the water’s familiar cool embrace envelop him. But even the calming void of the water failed to cleanse his mind, as a tall, muscular body burned the back of Haru’s closed eyelids. He groaned internally, deciding to do some laps back and forth to try and cool himself off.

He lost track of how many laps he’d done when he dimly heard his name echoing above the surface. His head broke above the water and took in a lungful of oxygen before turning to face the speaker. When he caught sight of Makoto, he quickly bit down on his lip to keep from letting out a snort of laughter.

Makoto sighed, folding his arms and giving Haru a chastising look. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

Haru merely shook his head, knowing that if he tried to vocalize a response he would probably be unable to contain his laughter.

Makoto narrowed his eyes and grumpily furrowed his brow. “I see that smirk,” he called out. He put his hands on his hips. “You can’t fool me.”

In truth, Haru hadn’t planned it at all, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t find it amusing. He had just been so excited about swimming with Makoto again that the details never crossed his mind. Letting Makoto borrow one of his swimsuits seemed trivial with the knowledge of the vast difference between their heights and builds tucked out of sight. But now that Makoto was standing before him in one of his swimsuits, it was painfully obvious that the limit of their clothes sharing ability was a shirt, not a spandex swimsuit. On Haru, the swimsuit reached his knees, but on Makoto, it barely reached mid-thigh, and it looked like it was cutting off his circulation. He stood with a stiffness, the tight black and purple fabric constricting his movements. The situation was absurd and amusing-- here was the man Haru lit six fires to catch glimpses of, standing before him in his own swimsuit. Haru caught himself staring at the agonizingly visible muscles, accented in the light of the pool, the small swimsuit riding below Makoto’s hip bones. His eyes inadvertently traveled downwards…

 _Stop it!_ Haru almost smacked himself in the head. _Play it cool._ He tried to keep his face calm and prayed that Makoto hadn’t noticed anything. But Makoto appeared as oblivious as always with Haru’s hints and actions, still glaring good-naturedly at Haru, his hands on his hips.

Makoto sighed again. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked bemusedly, raising his eyebrows.

 _Yes._ “Sorry,” Haru said, swimming forward to the edge of the pool. He propped his elbow up on the wall and offered his hand to Makoto in a conciliatory fashion. Makoto looked slightly confused as to why Haru was holding his hand out to him but nevertheless stepped forward to take it. Haru smiled at him as he tightened his grip and gave a firm pull, causing Makoto to fall into the pool with an alarmed yelp and a loud splash.

Haru quickly swam out of the way, brimming with mischievous energy. Makoto surfaced, spluttering, flicking drops of water from his hair as he set his sights on Haru. “Now you’ve really done it,” he threatened unconvincingly, unable to hide the amused glint in his green eyes. He playfully raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have to get my revenge.”

Haru kept his face passive, although his mind traveled to about fifteen different versions of what Makoto sounded like he was implying, but he was sorely disappointed when all he received was a splash of water in the face.

“Hah!” Makoto exclaimed victoriously. “That’s payback!”

Haru blinked the water out of his eyes, giving Makoto a blank look. “I was already wet, though,” he pointed out.

Makoto froze at the realization. “Oh-- I--” he stammered. He huffed, more amused than irritated. “I tried!”

“Try harder,” Haru muttered, giving a smirk as he turned away and dived under the surface before Makoto could respond. As he spiraled deeper into the water, he replayed his words in his head, not entirely sure what he even meant by them.

He popped his head above the water and glanced back at Makoto, who was squinting at him with confusion. “Haru…” he murmured, biting his lip.

“What?” Haru asked, fully aware of his strange behavior. Makoto’s wet, dripping hair and the little rivulets of water cascading down his tanned body taunted him, reminding him of the taste of Makoto’s skin beneath the rain of the pool shower. Haru was trying to distance himself so he wouldn’t accidentally scare Makoto off, but he instead he came off as even more awkward and eccentric than normal. He had no idea how to approach the situation and what, if anything, he should say to Makoto. Makoto now knew what Haru wanted, and Haru felt like Makoto wanted it too, particularly when they had been in the shower, but in those moments he always retracted whatever desire he had shown and returned to his comfort zone of ease and innocence. Haru loved Makoto’s integrity and naivety, but it was growing frustrating with Makoto acting like he wanted to go further but then immediately snapping back to his tame, nervous box.

“Nothing,” Makoto sighed, reaching up a hand to brush back his hair from his forehead. Haru felt a chill go through his body as he watched him, picturing himself running his fingers through Makoto’s hair. _Calm down,_ he told himself, taking a deep breath.

Makoto seemed to let go of the awkward moment and swam over to join Haru. He stopped about two feet away and gave him a smile. “You said Nagisa’s out of town, right?” he asked, sniffing slightly.

Haru blinked. “Yeah…” he said slowly.

“And Rei’s staying at his school overnight?” Makoto continued, his eyes wide and perky.

Haru’s brow furrowed, confused by what Makoto was asking. _He can’t be that oblivious, can he?_ he thought in disbelief. _He’s not that stupid._ “Yeah, he is…” he muttered. He squinted his eyes slightly, trying to decipher any hidden code in Makoto’s expression. _There’s nothing else that he could possibly mean by that, is there?_ Haru bit the inside of his lip as he reflected over it in his mind, feeling a tiny prick of blood form from his teeth. _Does this mean that he wants to…?_

Makoto tilted his head. “Maybe this means we can finally finish a documentary without Rei yelling at us to turn it off,” he joked lightheartedly, lifting up his shoulders slightly.

The now familiar feeling of crushing disappointment stabbed Haru in the chest. _He is that stupid,_ he realized in a lifeless sort of horror. He opened his mouth, closed it, and turned his head away. “Maybe,” he mumbled listlessly in response. Knowing that Makoto would ask him what was wrong, he promptly succumbed to the waves of the water and sank deeper into the pool than he knew Makoto had the swimming skill to reach.

From his vantage point he could see Makoto’s distorted head looking down at him and his body treading water beneath the surface, no doubt frustrated and confused, but Haru was enjoying the echoing stillness of the bottom of the pool. He also didn’t really want to surface and have Makoto asking him questions, he just wanted to be left alone to mope about his ridiculous, invisible problems. But too soon he was running out of oxygen and he reluctantly turned his face up and began swimming upwards. His head broke above the water, gratefully inhaling a lungful of air. He shut his eyes and flicked droplets from the ends of his hair, before sighing and turning his gaze with dreading apprehension to Makoto.

Makoto was staring at him with such bafflement and judgment that Haru immediately regretted surfacing. _Nope!_ Taking another breath in, he attempted to dive back in again, but this time felt a strong hand quickly grab a hold of his arm and pull him above the surface.

 “Oh no you don’t,” Makoto chided, keeping a firm grip as Haru tried to wriggle free. He frowned and narrowed his green eyes. “What are you doing?” he demanded in a stern voice.

 Haru continued to attempt to wrangle his arm out of Makoto’s hold but the taller man refused to let him budge, so he exhaled dramatically and gave up. “Nothing,” he muttered. He felt a slight pulsing in his arm from the pressure of Makoto’s hand wrapped around it, an altogether strangely pleasant sensation.

 Makoto sighed exasperatedly, obviously irritated with Haru’s inadequate response. “Haru…” he complained, giving Haru a terse look. His mouth twitched in frustration as he appeared to be at a loss for words.

 Haru inadvertently glanced down at Makoto’s flexed arm, an easily visible view. He trailed the muscles of Makoto’s pectorals and shoulder all the way down to Makoto’s forearm and wrist, then to the hand that kept Haru from going anywhere. There was an awkward pause as Haru realized that he was staring and realized that Makoto had noticed that he was staring.

 If his arm weren’t held down, Haru certainly would have sank into the water a third time to spare himself yet another embarrassment, but there was no escape this time. Although, Haru noticed the look in Makoto’s eyes shifting from confusion to something… else. He stared back at Haru just as intensely as Haru had been staring at him, his green eyes cool and calm. A rush of blood coursed through Haru’s body, and despite the cold water surrounding him, he felt a throbbing heat. His pulse picked up as Makoto’s eyes remained locked with his, some sort of silent challenge hanging in the air over Makoto’s hand on Haru’s arm. Neither of them said a word, but the dense silence around them seemed to whisper things that couldn’t have words put to them.

 But as quickly as it developed, the tension snapped and Makoto blinked, releasing Haru’s arm. His face reddened and he backed away from Haru. “A-Ah, sorry!” he said, laughing nervously, before turning away and diving underwater himself. Haru watched him go, eyebrows cinching minutely, and turned his attention to his arm. It was still tingly and slightly pink from Makoto’s grip.

  _What the hell was that?_

Haru had never seen that look in Makoto’s eyes before. Makoto was always soft and kind, showing nothing but sweetness and a bit of awkwardness, making sure Haru felt as happy and comfortable as he could. But in that one moment where he had control over Haru, his eyes burned with authority. He had shown no fear about matching Haru’s gaze and Haru had felt himself receding in the path of that emerald intensity. And he had… enjoyed it?

 Frowning, Haru shook out his hand and flexed it, trying to get rid of the residual tingling. He glanced at Makoto’s broad, torsional back swimming away from him, before exhaling and swimming after him.

* * *

 

 It was 10:45 P.M., and Makoto was leaning back on his hands at the edge of the pool, watching Haru cut through the water like one of the sea creatures from their movies. _There should be a documentary on Haru,_ Makoto mused, smirking at the thought. _But nobody would understand it._

 When Makoto had called it quits about fifteen minutes prior, Haru had requested to stay in the pool a bit longer. Naturally, Makoto obliged. He wasn’t opposed to swimming for longer--in fact, he wanted to swim for longer--but there was the fact that he could hardly feel his legs inside the tightness of his borrowed suit. Makoto was more than happy to watch Haru swim, seeing as the very sight of him took his breath away. Also, Haru had been acting a bit off all night--constantly trying to hide in the water or swim away from Makoto, so it seemed like some alone time would be a good thing.

 Taking advantage of the peace granted to him, Makoto looked up at the ceiling and sighed. He had always been aware of the sunroof of the complex, but usually he was too busy trying to keep up with Haru in the water to take a good look. Because he always came to the pool with Haru at night, he thought a name like “moonroof” would be more appropriate. The haze of city lights concealed most of the stars from view, but a few bright ones were still visible, and the moon shone clearly up above. Makoto had to admit it was nice swimming under the stars, and he made a note to spend some time just floating on his back the next time he and Haru wound up at the pool, which he knew wouldn’t be far off. Sometimes he felt like all they did was go swimming--not that he was complaining.

Eventually, Haru emerged from the water’s depths, and Makoto smiled, trying to catch his eye. Haru simply kept his gaze down on the tile at the pool’s edge, flipped his hair a few times, and climbed out of the pool. The aversion was so distinct and exaggerated that Makoto had to believe it was on purpose. _What has gotten into him?_ Makoto wondered, sighing. A few minutes later, Haru returned from the locker room with his clothes on and a towel draped over his shoulders. Makoto stood up and looked at him, and noticed that he appeared to be itching to leave, or just move in general. He moved quickly to the door to exit the complex, and pushed it open.

“Are you ready to go?” Makoto asked out of politeness and habit, though he already knew the answer. Haru looked back towards the pool and nodded.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, hastily walking under Makoto’s arm and out onto the street. His expression was sullen and downcast, and Makoto furrowed his brow at his petulance.

“Hey, Haru, wait up!” Makoto called out, quickening his strides to match Haru’s. It didn’t take much effort on his part to catch up, as his legs were considerably longer than Haru’s, but he still had to push himself. Haru seemed dangerously close to breaking into a jog, and Makoto wouldn’t put it past him to try to bolt at any second.

 “Haru, is something wrong?” Makoto asked once they were walking side by side. He noticed that Haru’s jaw was clenched, and it tightened at the inquiry. He inhaled sharply, as if forming a response, but he cut himself off.

 “Haru, please,” Makoto pleaded. It was starting to really bother him that Haru seemed so upset. Usually, after a couple hours in the pool, Haru was calm and content, but that night, the swimming seemed to have aggravated him. Makoto had to wonder if it wasn’t the swimming that was the issue.

“Did I do something?” he finally asked, grabbing Haru’s wrist and whipping him around in the middle of the sidewalk. It was late enough that many people weren’t out on the streets, but Makoto still paused to make sure they weren’t blocking anyone’s path. He shot Haru down with a glare he generally reserved for his younger siblings, until he finally turned his head up to face him.

“No,” Haru muttered, glancing down at his hand and yanking it away. Makoto cursed himself for not tightening his grip. “You didn’t do anything.”

  _You didn’t do anything._ To Makoto, it sounded more like an accusation than a reassurance, as if “not doing anything” was the problem. _Then what did he want me to do?_ Makoto started running through a list of items in his head that he might have failed to deliver on that day. Unanswered text messages or phone calls were the only things he could think of, and he recalled sending the last message in their conversation anyways. Also, Haru wasn’t exactly the type to lose his cool over poor communication, but maybe there was something Makoto was missing… Something less material…

 “Hey, Haru!” Makoto shouted when he realized Haru had started walking away again. “You’ve been acting really strangely all night, and I would really like to help if I can. If you could tell me what’s wrong, maybe I could fix it.”

 “I said you didn’t do anything.”

 As unconvincing as Makoto found Haru’s statement, he decided to play along in the hopes of finding more clues as to what exactly Haru was feeling. He kept his eyes trained on Haru’s face as they half walked, half ran through the streets. Haru’s words could betray him, but Haru’s face rarely lied.

 “If I didn’t do anything, then did someone else?”

 Haru’s stony expression wavered for a moment, but he recovered it just as quickly as it was lost. He shook his head. “No.”

 Makoto sighed. Just as expected. He fumbled with his thoughts, wondering how to proceed. He and Haru had never really argued before, and he was worried that if he said something wrong, that was the direction their conversation would take--especially if he was contributing to Haru’s foul mood in the first place. He had nearly resigned himself to spending the rest of their walk in silence, but then he had a thought.

 “If nobody did anything to upset you, then are you upset with yourself?”

  _Bingo._ Haru did not answer, but rather stilled as if holding his breath, the only sound coming from the distant bustle of Tokyo nightlife.

Though Makoto’s voice had come out wavering, wary of asking something he felt to be rather intrusive--and especially in Haru’s current state--he got the reaction he was hoping for. He had successfully cracked the code to Haru’s hidden feelings that Haru was working so hard to keep locked up for some reason--Makoto didn’t know why--and caught a glimpse of genuine emotion swarming in his eyes. Haru, however, having realized exactly what Makoto had done, turned his head to the side immediately and let his hair tumble down as far down his face as it could. Though Haru didn’t give a verbal response, his physical response presented an indicative “yes”.

 Satisfied with the silent reply, Makoto shut his mouth and kept walking until they reached Haru’s apartment. Haru had slowed down a bit in his strides, and Makoto was no longer watching him as intently as before. The night sky, before welcoming and expansive, suddenly bore down on them like a smothering blanket. It quickly became an embodiment of the tension that radiated from each of them--Haru, struggling with issues unknown to Makoto, and Makoto restraining himself from pressing further. Makoto had an unnerving desire to right whatever was wrong, but if Haru’s troubles were personal, there was truly nothing he could do but wait for him to open up on his own.

 When they finally scaled the stairs to Haru’s apartment, and Haru took out his keys, Makoto decided it was safe to speak again.

 “If you’re not in the mood to watch the rest of the documentary now, I can just go.”

 Haru’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the keys. “No, stay.” His voice came out low and measured, but there seemed to be no indecisiveness in his words. He opened the door to the apartment and stepped inside, Makoto following. Makoto was surprised that whatever was bothering him apparently didn’t require an empty space. He would have guessed from Haru’s restless demeanor and quick movements that he didn’t want to be tied down.

 “It really is fine if you want to be left alone,” Makoto assured him. “And it’s pretty late, so I’d just be leaving after the movie anyway.”

 “Who said you have to go home?” Haru muttered. Makoto could tell at once that Haru’s question resulted from a slip of the tongue, as he froze where he stood and shot Makoto a nervous glance. Makoto furrowed his brow.

 “Well, I guess, um… I don’t really have to go home, it’s just, I wouldn’t want to invite myself to spend the night on your couch.” Makoto wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, and wondered if he should have said anything at all if Haru hadn’t intended for the topic to be brought up. _Does Haru want me to spend more time with him? Is that what’s wrong?_ “But, if you wanted me to…”

 Haru raised a brow, suddenly intrigued, but with a quick shake of the head, the spark was gone. “Do whatever you want,” he said gloomily. He wandered into the kitchen and pulled out some mackerel from the fridge, most likely with the intent to grill it for a snack. Makoto followed him and took a seat at the kitchen island, folding his arms on the cool granite and resting his chin on top as he always did when Haru cooked.

 “Haru,” Makoto started, picking up where Haru’s last statement had left off, although it was probably too late for the two to be entirely coherent. “I just want to do what you want, because you clearly have something in mind that you won’t tell me. I don’t want to spend any extra time here unless it’s making you happy.”

 Haru dropped the mackerel on the counter and stared at it. He looked back at the fridge and then at Makoto, who awaited him expectantly. “What if what would make me happy, would make you unhappy?”

 Makoto’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt the color drain from his face. Little by little, he started to piece things together. Haru’s strange mood all night, his unwillingness to talk, his seeming frustration with everything Makoto did or said…the gut feeling Makoto had had the whole walk home that he had done something wrong. He took a shaky breath and sat up, exhaling loudly enough for Haru to give him a strange look. _I’m such an idiot,_ Makoto cursed himself. _Of course that’s what this is all about._

 “If--if that’s what you want,” Makoto finally managed, failing to conceal the strain in his voice. “Then I guess I’ll get going.” He slid off the island chair and walked towards the door to the apartment, turning back to Haru to offer up a weak smile and wave. “Bye, Haruka.”

 Makoto kept his eyes closed until he was facing away from Haru with a hand on the door handle, a chorus of “idiot” running through his head and filling up his ears with a low, whooshing sound. What if there had been other signs? Signs besides the ones he had caught that night, that Haru was really unhappy with him? And he had been too dense to notice? He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned down the handle, but suddenly, he stopped, because there were hands in his hair and a mouth on his, locking him in place.

 “H-Haru,” he spluttered, pulling away. Haru, now resting his hands on Makoto’s chest, gave him a defiant look.

 “I didn’t think you hated it this much,” he hissed. He dropped his hands away and clenched them into fists. “I know you wanted to go slower, but I didn’t think that meant stopping all together.”

 Makoto stared at Haru, dumbfounded. “I have a pace too,” Haru continued, spitting out words faster by the second. “I thought that you would be growing more comfortable, but instead you’re leaving at just the mention of it.”

 “Wh-What?!” The word flew out of Makoto’s mouth faster and louder than he had anticipated. “I’m leaving because I thought you were breaking up with me!”

 Haru froze, mouth wide in shock. “What made you think that?” he snapped.

 “B-Because you…” The chorus of “idiot” grew louder, with a few more colorful words added in. “You said that for you to be happy, I would be unhappy, and it just sounded like…” Makoto trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut and turning down to the floor. A hot, hot shame crept over his whole body, and he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

 “Idiot.”

 Makoto finally looked up upon hearing the word aloud. Haru seemed to be blushing as vibrantly as he was, and couldn’t meet his eyes. “Makoto, you’re so oblivious sometimes…” Sighing and stepping back from the doorway, Haru walked back to the kitchen with Makoto at his heels.

 “Is this because of what happened in the showers?” Makoto blurted. “I-I didn’t think that it would upset you this much… I didn’t think it would upset you at all, really.”

 Haru paused in front of the mackerel he had set out to shoot Makoto a pointed glare. Makoto’s breath caught as the icy eyes bored into his own, wishing they would just turn back down to the counter. Soon enough, they did.

 “But I was wrong,” Makoto continued, rushing his words in the hopes of making it to an imaginary finish line before it was too late. “Apparently, it did upset you, and I’m sorry for not noticing sooner. I guess I never really think about… that… very much, because I’m happy just being around you.”

 Evidently not impressed with Makoto’s diplomacy, Haru ignored him and laid a pan on the stove. He reached for the apron hanging on a hook by the pantry, but Makoto jumped out of his seat to grab Haru’s arm, preventing him from putting it on. Slowly, Haru’s gaze rose to meet Makoto’s, and in that moment, their silent channel of communication flowed freely once again, giving Makoto the courage to say what he had to say next.

 “We could do it now, if you want.”

 Haru looked at Makoto as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His eyes widened and the fire was back, burning a clear, brilliant blue. “Would… You wouldn’t just be doing it for me,” Haru clarified. “It wouldn’t bother you.”

 “No.” Makoto let the word slip out as soon as it popped into his head, as he wanted Haru to know there was no hesitation to his decision. He had worked everything out before he proposed the idea in the first place, and even then, he realized he had made the choice long before then, probably after he first kissed Haru. The only time his resolve had wavered was in the shower, their last time at the pool, when he was caught by surprise. He had found himself exposed, drowning in lust and water, and unable to think clearly. But right then, in Haru’s kitchen, there was nothing to muddle his thoughts, and he knew what he wanted beyond a shadow of a doubt. “I want this too.”

 As soon as he said it, a hand was on him, dragging him back down a hallway he had never been before. Haru led him into the last room on the left, and slammed the door shut behind them. He wasted no time in removing his clothing--ripping it off faster than Makoto would have thought humanly possible. Soon, he was peeling off his swimsuit, and Makoto flinched. He may have wanted sex, but it didn’t make him any less nervous.

 “Makoto?”

 Heart racing with nerves and just about every other emotion in the world, Makoto forced himself to look directly at Haru and not at any of the inanimate objects near Haru he had been previously focusing on. He gulped. “Yeah?”

 Haru motioned to the clothes still perfectly in place on Makoto’s body, and the gesture somehow made Makoto feel more exposed than if he were completely naked. “Oh, right, these, I forgot.” He nervously laughed as he latched onto the hem of his shirt, and pulled it off with shaking hands. Cool air hit the open planes of his back and chest, but it didn’t do anything to soothe the heat that ravished the surface.

 “I guess I’ll just…” he trailed off as he started unbuttoning his pants, mentally kicking himself for narrating the process. It had been so easy for Haru, so why not for him? He was probably just overthinking things as always.

 “Makoto,” Haru repeated, his voice louder than before. Makoto quickly realized that was because his lips were pressed up against his ear. Startled, Makoto arched his back to break away, but Haru grabbed onto his belt and tugged downwards. “Ma...ko...to…”

 “Mmmhmm!” Makoto’s strangled voice escaped him as Haru flicked his tongue over the shell of his ear. He tried prying Haru’s hands away from his pants, but they were already inside, and they were staying. Haru’s mouth started traveling down his neck, whispering some utterance of his name with each kiss.

 “Haru…” Makoto gasped, realizing he had been holding his breath for as long as Haru had been holding his hips. Everything was going so fast--too fast. He had had a clear picture of his desires when Haru was standing a good two feet away, but as soon as he felt the heat of his breath and the presence of his skin--all of it--his vision went cloudy. It was too much, and he needed to slow down.

 Haru slowed his advances after a few moments, and at last came to a complete stop. He buried his face into the curve of Makoto’s neck. “You don’t want it now.”

 “N-n-no!” Makoto hurried to assure him that he hadn’t turned back on his words. Apparently, the statement wasn’t convincing enough, as Haru pulled away from him, dejected. He walked away and took a seat on the bed, scuffing his feet with each step in evident frustration.

 As he thought of what to say next, Makoto took a good look around Haru’s room. He hadn’t taken in that much of it before, for obvious reasons, but there wasn’t that much of it to take in anyways. It was sparsely furnished with a bed, dresser, desk, and chair. A few wire shelves lined one side of the room, neatly lined with books whose titles he couldn’t make out. Haru hadn’t bothered turning on a light when they first entered, which Makoto was immensely grateful for, but it cast the whole room into a realm of greys and blacks, the only illumination coming from the moon through the window. Haru had sat down right in the middle of its beam, and his pale skin reflected the silvery light in a way that made his whole body glow.

 Drawn to the light, Makoto joined Haru on the bed and sighed. “I’m sorry for freaking out again, I’m just really not used to these kind of things.” He tentatively slid a hand over to take Haru’s knee and give him a nudge. “Do you mind if we go a little slower? I mean, still doing this now, but maybe not all at once? Maybe we could start with something a little more… familiar.”

 “Like what?” Haru replied in a monotone, looking down at Makoto’s hand.

 “Like this.” Makoto took the hand he had rested on Haru’s knee and found Haru’s hand nearest him, intertwining their fingers and squeezing. The gesture was a staple of their relationship--one of the first forms of contact they had ever had, and they continued to have up until that night. The sensation of Haru’s hand in his own instantly sent Makoto’s pulse dropping to a somewhat manageable rate, lowering from panic to elevated excitement in a matter of seconds. Once his breathing stabilized a bit more, he moved again.

 “And this,” he said, cupping a hand to the side of Haru’s face and letting their faces draw together on their own time, falling into an effortless gravity until their noses brushed and lips met. Makoto controlled the kiss, only parting his lips enough to let his breath flow beside Haru’s, traversing an invisible tunnel between their mouths. Haru’s breath fell like cool water upon Makoto’s tongue. Everything about Haru, from the color of his eyes to the chlorine in his hair and the blue sheets on his bed, always circled back to water.

 Haru pressed back against the kiss with building intensity, and eventually coaxed Makoto’s mouth open enough to slip his tongue inside. Makoto happily obliged and reciprocated the action, still in familiar territory. Haru traced the area where their mouths connected, pressing firmly with his tongue, but never enough to break the bond. He swirled circles inside his mouth, and Makoto chased after him, leaning into a weighted push and pull. Makoto snaked his hand back into Haru’s hair for a better grip, and Haru pressed down into Makoto’s shoulders.

 “Ngh,” Makoto moaned as he briefly pulled away for air. Haru had risen to his knees, and for once, Makoto was the one looking up. Haru replaced his lips with his thumb, drawing it lightly down Makoto’s lips as he held up his chin with the rest of his fingers. _This is new,_ Makoto thought, gazing at his own reflection in Haru’s hazy eyes. It was still dark, so he couldn’t see clearly, but he could still see enough. He could make out what Haru must have been seeing--the shadowy outline of his body, the bed beneath him, and the shining pools of his eyes. His swollen lips and tousled hair and… _Is that really what I look like everytime we kiss?_

 Suddenly the picture shifted, and Makoto was flat on his back, looking up by default rather than by force. Haru already had Makoto’s pants halfway down his legs, and Makoto tried not to panic when he heard the soft thump of them dropping to the floor. His boxers followed and Makoto trembled as the fabric glided over his skin, realizing that there was no going back. He was naked and Haru was naked and they were on Haru’s bed and… Makoto’s heart started to race again, and he couldn’t help but shut his eyes and force himself to breathe. Haru knew almost everything about him in an emotional sense, but in a physical sense, Haru was about to learn a whole lot more, and the idea terrified Makoto. Haru would be the first person to know that side of him, and Makoto barely knew it himself.

  _I can do this,_ he reassured himself. _It’s just Haru._ And what did Haru care about modesty in the first place? He was always one pool away from ripping his clothes off, and never gave it a second thought. But… Haru was beautiful, from the delicate curves of his face and hands to the way his lithe muscles rippled over his frame. Makoto took a deep breath and hung on to the hope that maybe to Haru, he was beautiful in a similar way.

 Haru eased his body on top of Makoto’s, and their bare skin connected with a scorching heat. Hands splayed over Makoto’s waist as Haru drew him closer in a torturous roll of his hips, lighting up Makoto’s nerves in every possible way. “Haru,” Makoto gasped, eyes flickering open only to find himself in the midst of another slow grind, effectively cutting off his speech. Haru raised his eyes to look at him, head positioned just below his chin, and smirked, apparently satisfied with the reaction.

 “A-Ahh,” Makoto shuddered as Haru slid off his hips to rake his teeth across the skin of his collarbone, pulling it up and pinching it between his lips, sucking in a way that was sure to leave a mark. Haru gently kneaded into his stomach and tangled their legs, Makoto simply along for the ride. Slowly, things began to feel more natural, and Makoto gave in, not caring whether he suppressed a moan or not when Haru nipped at his neck and shoulders, or even when Haru took him in his mouth, drawing his head up and down and using his tongue in a way that should have been illegal. Everything fell into place, and as his body woke up, Makoto’s anxiety went to sleep.

 At least, until Haru rolled off of Makoto and pulled him on top.

 Haru wasted no time in hoisting up his legs and tossing them over Makoto’s back, forcing Makoto’s hips down towards his with a sense of urgency. At first, Makoto was too startled to resist, but just as their bodies were about to collide, he tensed and stopped the movement. Haru yanked with his legs again, but Makoto was locked into place, much stronger than the other man than to bend to his whims. What just happened? Makoto wondered as Haru stared him down. It was the face of a petulant child who wasn’t getting what he wanted. Makoto was beyond confused, as Haru had seemed perfectly happy moments before, doing all the kissing and touching on his own, so he hadn’t interfered. So why did he suddenly want to switch?

 “Um, Haru…” Makoto asked, voice coming out breathless as a result of the frenzied activity. “Do you want me to…?”

 Haru gave a sharp nod and tugged with his legs again, but to no avail. Makoto had found his pace under Haru’s command, but suddenly he was in control, and his whole world of comfort had tilted on its axis. The nerves he thought were gone bubbled up and reared their ugly heads, rendering him incapable of doing what Haru wanted--what maybe, somewhere deep down inside, Makoto wanted too. He just didn’t have the courage to admit it.

 “O-Okay,” Makoto stammered, biding his time. His heart was knocking against his ribcage and he had to focus all of his attention on stilling his shaky hands. “Yeah, um, okay.”

 This is what he had signed up for, wasn’t it? Sex. They couldn’t have sex without actually having sex, but sex meant… Sex was… It was foreign. Completely foreign. Makoto’s mind shot back to perhaps an internet article or noisy conversation of his coworkers, and he started running through steps in his mind. _What do I do? What do I do? What do I DO?_ Though he had his answer, it still didn’t feel like enough. With a deep breath and all the will-power he could muster, Makoto shifted his weight onto one hand and lifted the other, raising two fingers to his mouth and slipping them between his trembling lips, before coating them with a generous layer of saliva.

 Haru, beneath him, twitched with agitation as he watched the whole process, and Makoto tried not to read too deeply into the swirling depths of his eyes. Slowly, Makoto lowered his hand to settle at Haru’s entrance, and before he could second-guess himself, he pressed a finger inside.

 The second Makoto entered, Haru let out a short gasp and clamped down around Makoto’s hand. Makoto winced in turn, realizing he might have been too quick in his actions, and immediately retracted his finger.

 “Haru, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, and the heat that rose to his neck practically sizzled. He rocked back onto his heels without Haru’s needy legs to restrict him, and hid his hands behind his back as if they had committed a horrible crime. Though, considering as they had caused Haru pain, in all senses, they _had_.

 “Mmkto,” a mumble came, seconds later. The sheets rustled, and only upon hearing the swish of cotton did Makoto realize he had squeezed his eyes shut.

 The moment he opened them, though, he almost wished he had kept them that way.

 The light in the room may have been dim, but the sight before Makoto was blinding. He saw, now, that the sound of shifting linens was the sound of Haru propping himself up on his elbows. His porcelain skin was stained with a sheen of sweat and a flush of passion. His abdomen was heaving with shallow pants, and his bangs were tousled and plastered to his forehead. Through his parted lips, Makoto could make out the shadow of his tongue, and the wet, lusty tears that glistened in the corners of his eyes. For the sake of his nerves, Makoto wanted to hide behind closed eyelids forever, yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t look away.

 When Haru bit his bottom lip, he nearly combusted.

 “Makoto,” Haru breathed, raising himself further off the mattress. Makoto tried not to focus too hard on the way Haru’s slick abs undulated as he arched his back. Drawing their bodies back into a scalding proximity--placing a single hand on Makoto’s thigh and trailing the other down rough angles of his jaw bone--Haru brushed his lips against Makoto’s as he whispered, “Don’t stop.”

 Upon the utterance, Makoto’s breath caught in his throat, and he tried to look anywhere but Haru’s eyes, mere centimeters away from his own. When he looked down, however, Haru was already working his slender legs around Makoto’s waist in a way too fluid to be real. The sight of their naked bodies so intimately intertwined was even more unnerving.

 “You’re not hurting me,” Haru assured him, voice husky and pleading. “At least not beyond what’s bearable.” The hand on Makoto’s jaw trailed down his neck, and then his arm, and then guided Makoto’s leaden limbs to his waist. Makoto held his breath all the while, as if afraid that a single exhale would shatter the man in front of him.

 After settling Makoto’s hand on his hip, Haru released his grip and slipped his free fingers into his own mouth, mimicking Makoto’s action from moment’s before. He drew them out, a thin strand of saliva still lingering on his lips, and folded his arm behind his back to enter himself.

 Makoto watched in awe as Haru’s mouth parted in a silent moan and his eyebrows furrowed together. He rocked forward until his chest pressed against Makoto’s shoulder to shift his hips up and accommodate for the new presence. The tension in Haru’s chest released after a few short seconds, and he buried his nose in Makoto’s neck.

 “It would be better if you did it,” Haru murmured, and the longing in his voice made it impossible for Makoto to say no. In fact, it made it nearly impossible for Makoto to say anything.  

 “Don’t ask me if I’m sure,” Haru added, reading Makoto’s mind. “Because I’m sure. Don’t stop this time.”

  _Okay,_ Makoto said to himself, and he set everything straight in his mind. _I’m not going to stop this time. He’s sure. He’s ready. The pain is bearable._ “Okay,” he said aloud, and he pushed Haru back onto the sheets.

 Oddly enough, Makoto’s mind silenced as he steadily stretched Haru out, scissoring against the elastic, wet heat. He had somehow effectively resolved himself to give Haru what he wanted, because when it came down to it, all that really mattered was making Haru happy. His own fears and anxieties would always come second if Haru’s happiness was on the line, and it was selfish to put his own comfort first. Though, wasn’t he gaining something from sex, too? As he slid his fingers in and out of Haru, feeling his body contort and contract with each movement, long-suppressed desires welled up in him that he didn’t even know he had. He wanted to feel that heat around him--to be swallowed up, to lose himself.   

 Time seemed to slow down as Makoto worked, though the silver ponds of moonlight suggested that time was still passing at its usual rate. The light, which had previously illuminated the floor and a bit of the comforter, was now splashed on the far wall of the bedroom, catching Makoto and Haru’s bodies in the blunt of the beam. Haru’s skin no longer shimmered--it shined. His features were no longer shifty shadows and shades of blue-grey--they were stark and sharp and bright. Makoto could distinguish each single eyelash.

 “Ma-koto,” Haru choked out between heavy pants, disrupting the lullaby of soft moans and weakly stifled winces. “It’s enough. Please. I’m ready.” He circled his hips to demonstrate the extent to which he was, indeed, properly stretched out. Makoto’s fingers spread with ease, and he felt his pulse jump as his own body twitched in excited anticipation.

  _He’s ready--I’m not going to hurt him,_ Makoto reminded himself as he withdrew his fingers and sidled up to position his hips over Haru’s. Haru once again wrapped his legs around Makoto’s waist, hooking behind his back more weakly than before, but with just as much urgency. He dug his heels into the arch of Makoto’s lower back, pulling him closer still.

 Yet, despite his new resolve--despite his boundless comfort and desire and how far they had come--when Makoto felt himself on the verge of entrance, a breath and a half away from closing the gap, he tensed.

 This was it. This was everything. This was Haru. This was him. This was them.

 He knew it was silly, and he wanted to scream at himself for hesitating after so many choruses of “don’t stop,” but he needed to. He needed to stop and drink it in--drink in the sight, drink in the fear, drink in the honesty. He needed to drink in Haru before he submitted to desire and couldn’t see an inch past the smokescreen of pleasure. He needed, for a moment, to stop and catch his breath.

 “Makoto,” Haru finally said, his name slicing like a blade through the heavy air. Makoto remained still as he met Haru’s eyes. Something in the cerulean orbs thawed--they were no longer clouded with lust, but rather clear and unguarded. Makoto caught himself once again holding his breath, and he could barely hear anything besides the blood rushing in his ears.

 “I love you.”

 The rushing blood silenced, leaving Makoto in a vacuum--soundless except for the cadence of Haru’s voice, those three words echoing out to the deepest caverns of his soul.

 “Y-You… love… me?”

 Haru huffed and turned his face to the side, glaring at a pillow. “Yes,” he replied, voice low and muffled. Despite his seemingly cool exterior, Makoto could make out a sheen of pink on his cheeks, even in the dark. Instantly, the rising tensions broke, and he flashed Haru his first genuine smile of the evening, and perhaps one of the most genuine smiles of his life. It seemed so easy, so pure, and so obvious, that the reply dripped off of Makoto’s tongue like morning dew off a blade of grass.

 “I love you too, Haru.”

 He leaned down to press a kiss to Haru’s upturned cheek, but Haru flipped back in time to catch it on the lips, clutching Makoto’s face and melting into the sheets below. Just as quickly as Makoto had snapped out of their rhythm, he snapped right back in, and with more finesse than before. He didn’t wait for the pull of Haru’s legs to guide them together, but rather pressed into Haru’s hips himself, relishing in the sound of his name escaping Haru’s lips and the way their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly. His eyes flitted over Haru’s face, still cautious of whether to continue, and noticed the far-away look of satisfaction in Haru’s eyes. Haru was barely still in the room--and seemed perfectly content with it--so laughing the slightest bit, Makoto took his expression as a sign to proceed. No more stopping. No more thinking. No more suppressing.

 Makoto let himself fall into the ocean, and never looked back.

* * *

_Warm…_

Haru was first aware of a new heat to the side of him before anything else. It made him feel cozy and peaceful, wanting to drift back into sleep, but bright rays of sunshine hit his closed eyelids, signaling morning. He reluctantly blinked open his eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light in his room. For a moment he couldn’t focus on anything and blurrily flicked his eyes back and forth, trying to fixate on something before realizing that the warm presence beside him was a sleeping, naked Makoto.  

 Suddenly he was wide awake, jolting as the memories from the night before poured into his head. So many things had happened he didn’t even know how to absorb it all. His weirdness at the pool, the awkward miscommunications and misinterpretations in the apartment, to finally being able to touch Makoto in a way that he had been longing for a while. And… Makoto _finally_ having the courage to touch him. After so much waiting and pent up desire, Haru certainly was rewarded with Makoto’s body on top of his, just even the slightest movement or touch sending chills through his body, moans escaping his mouth. Haru shivered as he recalled the sensation, despite the warmth and coziness of his bed, and even just lying there he could feel the burning ache in his body.

He’d surprised himself with his sudden confession to Makoto. It wasn’t exactly that he hadn’t realized he loved Makoto until the night before; he had known that for a while. What he’d realized was the word he looked for to define his feelings was love, and it meant he didn’t want just sex, he wanted Makoto and everything having to do with him. Haru supposed it hadn’t really surprised him that Makoto loved him too, for it was obvious in his kindness and understanding, as well as the way he looked at Haru and how he always had Haru’s best interest at heart. But Makoto sounded surprised when Haru told him, which perhaps came from Haru generally keeping a lid on his emotions, but Haru sensed it mostly stemmed from Makoto’s inability to see how beautiful and special he was.

 All Makoto needed from Haru were those three words to find his confidence, and the change was startling. Suddenly the glint in his eyes from earlier in the pool returned, authoritative and calm. There were no doubts that he was the one in control, and Haru easily let himself be led. Makoto was still just as gentle and polite, constantly making sure Haru was okay, but his nerves and embarrassment had dissipated, and were replaced by an aura of self-assuredness. Although, the second Haru exhibited any smidgen of pain or discomfort, Makoto immediately became overwhelmingly concerned and guilty. But his queries about stopping were quickly squashed, and he found his groove.

 Now, Makoto was completely knocked out, a light snore escaping his mouth. Gone was the powerful, assertive man from the night before and instead the more familiar Makoto lay pressed up against Haru, his brown hair ruffled and cascading over the blue of Haru’s pillow. The light cast a glow over him, warming the bronze tones in his hair and skin. Haru gently reached his hand out and stroked Makoto’s hair, keeping his fingers light and feathery. He exhaled contentedly.

 He could have stayed there all day, watching Makoto draw even breaths, but he convinced himself to get up and make breakfast so it would be ready by the time Makoto woke. Carefully slipping out from beneath the covers as discreetly as possible, Haru immediately felt his soreness increase with a vengeance at just the slightest movement. He winced, pausing with one leg dangling off the side of the bed and one still beneath his covers, taking a deep breath and sliding the other leg off the bed as well. Placing both feet on the ground, he gave himself a push to standing, wobbling as his legs took his weight and chomping down on his lip to keep from letting out a whimper. After taking a few deep breaths, he adjusted and somewhat found his balance, glancing around the room for his jeans. Once he located them, he took a few tentative steps, gritting his teeth, and cautiously bent over to pick them up, slipping his legs through the denim as quickly as possible.

 He made his way to the door, shutting it silently behind him as he went into the hallway, trying to ignore the sharp pains shooting through his body and hoping that some movement would alleviate his discomfort. He padded quietly towards the kitchen, yawning, before opening his eyes and focusing in front of him. He froze in his spot, panicking as he saw Rei before him, setting his bag down on the kitchen island and taking off his jacket. In the whirlwind of events from the day before, Haru had completely forgotten that Rei would be returning in the morning after his night at the lab. _Just act normal,_ Haru told himself, nervously stepping forward towards the kitchen.

 Rei looked up and gave him a smile. “Good morning, Haru,” Rei said, sounding a little weary from his night.

 “Morning,” Haru grunted, turning his gaze towards his apron and putting it on. He prayed that Makoto wouldn’t wake at the sound of voices.

 “That was unusually cold, even for you,” Rei complained. He sighed and turned around. “Ugh, I had a long night last nigh--YECHHHH!” He suddenly let out a loud disgusted scream, covering his nose with his hands, making Haru jump in shock and irritation. “Oh god, what is that?!”

 Haru was confused for a moment, before the scent hit him and he too slapped a hand over his mouth and nose, gagging slightly. He watched in horrified realization as Rei slowly drew up the package of mackerel that had been left out the night before, easily forgotten in the events that had occurred. Rei looked at the package with a sickened expression, holding it far away from himself between two fingers like a dead rat, before glaring at Haru.

 “What is this?” he demanded, seething.

 Haru shrunk back. “I guess I forgot about it last night,” he mumbled lamely, casting his eyes down.

 Rei frowned, obviously unimpressed with Haru’s explanation. “Who are you, Nagisa?!” he accused, shaking the package of fish threateningly. “I can always count on you to be neat!” He huffed and chucked it in the trash, immediately sealing up the bag so the smell didn’t permeate the entire apartment. “Do I now have to clean up after the both of you?” He angrily rushed to the sink, dolloping copious amounts of soap onto his hands as he washed them before turning to scowl at Haru again, arms crossed.

 “Sorry,” Haru muttered, looking at his feet. “There were things…” He trailed off, noticing Rei’s confused frown, and coughed loudly. “Nevermind.”

 Rei raised an eyebrow but didn’t question further, instead sighing and opening the fridge, pulling out food for his breakfast. After Rei moved out of the way, Haru moved forward to look in the fridge himself, lucking out and finding another package of mackerel. The two of them began to make their breakfasts in silence, Haru still shirtless and sore beneath his apron, with the feeling that Rei was watching him oddly.

 Haru was poking a sizzling piece of fish when he heard Rei ask, “Haru?”

 Haru turned his face to his roommate, who stood holding his chin with his hand, a quizzical look on his face. “What?”

 Rei’s eyes squinted. “Are you okay?” he questioned.

 “Yeah,” Haru responded slowly, his pulse quickening.

 “You just seem rather unlike yourself,” Rei explained, shifting his weight and observing Haru with scrutiny.

 Haru swallowed. “How so?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral.

 Rei pushed up his glasses, looking over Haru methodically. “Well, the incident with the fish was rather out of character for you,” he began, squinting slightly, “and in all the years we’ve lived together, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair look quite so disheveled,” he said, gesturing to Haru’s head. “Every time I’ve seen it, it’s been naturally perfect and organized.”

 Haru’s hair was usually straight and sleek, but this morning it was a bit… wild. Jet black locks stuck out in every direction, only a few covering Haru’s eyes, unlike the usual wave that cascaded over his forehead.

 “And also, there’s something in your face I just can’t pinpoint.” Rei leaned closer to Haru’s face, who frowned and leaned as far as he could away from Rei, like he was repelled by him.

 Haru scoffed and turned away from Rei, looking down at the mackerel. “You’re imagining things,” he said, hoping Rei would let it go.

 Rei shrugged and turned to go back to fixing his meal, when he suddenly whipped around. “Aha!” he exclaimed jubilantly, making Haru jump in shock. “What is _that?!_ ” He pointed a finger to something on Haru’s neck.

 Haru hand protectively jumped up to his neck. He suddenly remembered Makoto’s lips being pressed to that exact spot Rei’s finger was aiming at during some point the night before. Haru immediately began to panic.

 “Uh,” he choked frantically, trying to hide the hickey from Rei’s sight. “There was a mosquito in my room last night.”

  _Brilliant, Haru_.

 Rei put down his finger and crossed his arms, raising one eyebrow. “That must’ve been a large mosquito,” he remarked, looking suspicious.

 Haru chuckled nervously, somehow managing to keep his voice low and passive. “Yeah, it was,” he confirmed. He turned his attention back to the fish, hoping that Rei wouldn’t notice the red tint coloring his cheeks.

 Rei stared at Haru a second longer before turning away and heading back to the kitchen island, his breakfast in his hands. Rei had taken one bite when Haru heard a small creak coming the hallway. He shut his eyes. _Oh no._ Light footfalls approached, making him desperately pray that the floor beneath him would swallow him up. He turned slightly, to see his certain death approaching.

 “Good morning!” Makoto called out cheerfully, his eyes on Haru. For a moment, Haru felt a happy tingle in his body at the sight of an also shirtless, messy haired Makoto, but then the dreadful realization hit him that Rei too was looking at a shirtless, messy haired Makoto.

 Something clattered and and Haru turned to see Rei staring dumbfounded at Makoto, a piece of umeboshi hovering near his mouth. “M-Makoto?” Rei asked, his brows furrowed in shock and confusion.

 Makoto balked. “R-Rei?” he stammered, a bright pink shade instantly spreading across his face and reaching up to his ears. He stepped back slightly and awkwardly folded his muscular arms over his chest in an attempt to cover up. Haru noticed the marks of his own handiwork smattered over Makoto’s neck and chest, in far greater quantity than the hickies Makoto had left on him.

 Rei dropped the umeboshi onto his dish and stood up. “You’re, um, here early,” he offered. With a small squint of his eyes, he glanced back and forth between Makoto and Haru as if internally deliberating.

 Makoto barked a nervous laugh. “Uh, yeah, I had the day off!” he lied unconvincingly.

 Raising his eyebrows, Rei pointedly scanned Makoto with his eyes, stopping at his unruly hair and hickey covered bare chest. He coughed slightly and looked at Haru, who felt terribly exposed beneath his apron. “Haru?” Rei said loudly. “May I speak with you a moment?” It wasn’t a question-- it was a command.

 Without waiting for a response, Rei latched onto Haru’s wrist and dragged him out of the kitchen. Haru looked back at Makoto until he disappeared from sight with uncomfortable eyes, while Makoto just stood there meekly, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. The way Rei was hauling him, Haru felt like he was about seven years old and about to receive a scolding. They made it to Rei’s turf, his room, and he quickly shut the door, whipping around to face Haru with his hands on his hips.

 “Haru,” Rei spoke, watching Haru’s face. He sighed and pushed up his glasses, looking almost as uncomfortable as Haru felt. An awkward silence fell over the room as Rei awkwardly shifted his feet. “Did--did you and Makoto…” He trailed off.

 Haru turned his face away, letting his hair wash over his eyes. It seemed to him like Rei already knew the answer, and he didn’t really want to answer it for him. This was something he never wanted to talk about with anyone, let alone Rei. Haru valued privacy more than the average person, and Rei knew how to somehow worm his way in. He said nothing and imagined hell to be a pleasant alternative to this.

 He was surprised when Rei suddenly let out a booming laugh. “Relax, Haru,” he chortled, making Haru’s eyes widen. “Just give me a heads up next time, okay?” He smiled, surprisingly warmly.

 Haru inhaled sharply and blushed, nodding hesitantly. Rei, still laughing, opened the door and paused, turning back to face Haru. “This doesn’t mean I won’t tease you mercilessly, though,” he threatened ominously, turning away and leaving the room.

 After a deep breath, Haru quickly followed suit, and rushed back to the kitchen to check whether his mackerel had burned. It hadn’t, luckily, its outer flesh not quite a perfect golden-brown. Once he had successfully assessed the condition of his fish, Haru rotated to face Makoto, who sat at the kitchen island, now wearing a shirt. His eyes met Haru’s and seemed to silently ask whether everything was okay. Haru shrugged, a light smile on his face. Makoto got the message and smiled back, his green eyes shimmering across the room like emeralds.

 Rei returned and sat back at his spot, resuming the consumption of his breakfast, a nonchalant expression on his face. He looked at Haru and a sudden expression of disgust crossed his features. “For God’s sake,” he muttered indignantly. “Put a shirt on, Haru. Having no shirt on beneath the apron defeats the purpose of wearing an apron in the first place.” He sighed exasperatedly. “It’s not like it’s protecting you from getting burned.”

 Makoto burst out laughing, his voice filling the kitchen. Rei raised his eyebrows slightly, unaware that what he had said had been amusing, before a laugh escaped from his mouth as well. The two of them continued laughing together at the irritated Haru, who grumbled and got back to work cooking the fish, trying to hide the smile on his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. Forgive us, for we have sinned. What a birthday chapter, jeez. 
> 
> MufasasPride: I'd honestly forgotten 90% of this chapter until yesterday, and wow I was unprepared for how pervy Haru is in that first section. I mean, not going to lie, sometimes my inner monologue is very similar... -coughs- This was really hard to get through because I had to edit a LOT of my stuff. I hadn't quite realized how much my writing could change in just a few months. The Haru sections still aren't quite what I'd want them to be now, but as long as they're not as bad as they used to be, I'm content. I am, however, pleased with Rei and the fish. Today, in fact, I almost burst out laughing multiple times during class because I kept thinking about him reacting to rotting, smelly fish. It's so sad how often I make myself laugh. Narcissism at its finest.
> 
> sexythroatbitchohyescats: So, I actually just finished up the middle section of the chapter tonight. The whole "sex scene" has been added and added and added onto, because, you know, you don't really want to mess up the big sex scene, right? There were several messages we wanted to get across as Makoto and Haru progress their relationship to a much more intimate level. Just a little extra focus on honesty, baring yourself, purity, the very basis of Makoto's love for Haru. And we know, we know, there's no explicit fucking and crying out at climax and all that wonderful stuff, but that wasn't exactly our purpose with writing sex into the narrative in the first place. Though sweaty Haru begging to be taken is always nice, right?
> 
> You can follow us on tumblr, if you happen to be interested (or not, because look at all this self promotion, damn). MufasasPride is @broniichan, sexythroatbitchohyescats is @sexythroatbitchohyescats (easy enough to remember, hah), and our joint Free! blog is @suckmybutterfly.
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed our little descent into sin (well, more than usual), and see you next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Repost of current collab on fanfiction.net under the same pen name, most updates will first come on there. Your thoughts matter, and we would love to hear them. Thank you for reading (:


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